


This Anarchy We Share

by toxic_melody



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, eldritch benrey is best benrey, im not sure what tags to use???, its not a game au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 61,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxic_melody/pseuds/toxic_melody
Summary: "What should we do?""Same thing we've always done. We survive."-After the party The Science Team isn't just sent twenty years into the future, instead they're allowed to go home and have to face the consequences of their actions.'You're not a war criminal, if there's no more military to judge you.'
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby & Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)
Comments: 218
Kudos: 753





	1. It’s Impossible to Pin-Point

Tommy's dad is… _Quite an odd man._

Gordon just so happens to get a moment alone with him as the party is beginning to wind down. Tommy laid next to Sunkist on the filthy floor of the Chuck E Cheese's while Bubby and Coomer talked amongst themselves. Occasionally cackling and giggling to each other at whatever joke or fond memory they happened upon. Tommy cooing and cuddled up to his giant retriever, seemingly content with just the canine to keep him company.

It's, nice. A welcome sight compared to the horrors they'd left in Black Mesa.

Aside from the dead clones and Bubby's test tube brothers currently strewn about the now bloodied restaurant. Though he’d been assured by Tommy’s father that they were already dead. He just assumed that meant they weren't real because otherwise how was he supposed to interpret that? It was startling how desensitized he'd become to death and violence in only a matter of days. Hardly blinking when the first shot rang out in the closed space, blaring over the repetitive and admittedly grating music.

He'd retreated to a booth to clear his head and have a moment of respite, giving the other’s some much needed distance. His self imposed isolation was broken by the strange man in a fine suit, whose eyes seemingly glowed even in the restaurant's bright lighting.

"I do hope you've, been enjoying the party Mr. Freeman… I know, it wouldn't have been the same without, you… You are Tommy's best friend, after all."

The smile is unnatural.  _ Unsettling _ Like not all the muscles in his face are working properly. Too calculated to be normal. But he's glad to hear that Tommy thinks of him as a close friend. He hadn't always been a good friend to him in return. Not with his frantic temper and tendency to infrantize the man when they'd first met. Strange to consider that Tommy was actually about a decade older than him, given how innocent and naive he could be at times. Though now he's just glad to see Tommy happy and alive. Looking over to him, laying and chatting with his giant immortal dog, warms his heart. Eases the strain of exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.

It's a similar feeling he'd had when Joshua was born. Pride. Joy. Something like that. Whatever it is. It feels pleasant. **Comforting**.

If anyone deserves to be honoured and celebrated, it's Tommy.

At times the only thing keeping Gordon’s despair from consuming him when all hope had presumably been lost. His right hand clenching reflexively as he recalls their short time spent together after Bubby and Benrey’s betrayal. The one person he could always trust to have his back.

"Yeah well. Honestly I thought this was going to be just another shit show. But, I had fun." He offers a smile in return. Ignoring how the other man hasn't blinked.

They settle into a comfortable silence until Gordon looks out the window to the empty parking lot. Keeping his tone guarded. "Mr. Coolatta is it alright if I ask you… a personal question?"

He chuckles. Which is a good sign even if it sends an involuntary shiver up the scientist’s spine. "Well… That all depends on what the question is, Mr. Freeman." 

He forces himself to look at the man. Even if meeting his eyes makes him feel instinctively uneasy. As if triggering his fight or flight response from just simply sitting across from him in the same cheap booth. He swallows and clears his throat before following up with his question, "Tommy said he was an orphan? And. I mean… No offense! But you're clearly not human… So like, is he adopted?"

Instead of looking mad or offended by the invasive nature of the inquiry, he looks somewhat wistful. Looking back towards his son with an affection Gordon knows all too well. "Tommy's mother…. Was, human."

"She passed away on the day Tommy, was born." His tone never shifts. Once again impossible to read, "As I was… indisposed. Tommy was put into an orphanage. For the best, as my work made it impossible to… perform my duties as a parent. Something I'm sure, you're all too familiar with Mr. Freeman."

He nods solemnly.

"In truth… I do believe it was for the best, that Tommy got to be a, normal boy. My. Line of work. Is simply no place for a child. When he graduated, top of his class from quite a prestigious university. We spoke. He wanted to be, a part of things. Wanted to find himself like minded individuals…"

"Guess that explains the dog." Gordon muses. The man laughs in the exact same way as before, as if it was prerecorded. Which isn't as creepy as it probably should be.

"Ah yes… Tommy. Is finding his way. Things will not be easy for him, but he's a good, boy. I'm. Glad. He has friends that care so much about him." 

Gordon nods and after another moment of fiddling with his hands speaks up once again. "Can I ask you another question?"

"If you must."

"Are you and… Benrey…. Are you the same thing?"

"We aren't  _ things  _ Mr. Freeman." A raised hand silences Gordon's immediate flustered apology and rushed explanation. Pausing until it seems the scientist has recollected himself. "To answer your question. No… We are not. Though I'm not at liberty to divulge any more than that, you understand. My employers… would be weary, of the spread of any, information. That is deemed, on a need to know, basis.”

He finally blinks, looking suddenly at something over Gordon's shoulder. He follows his gaze but spots nothing out of place when searching behind him. Looking back to the man who stares straight through him.

"Thank you, sir. For answering my questions." Gordon shifts in the booth. Increasingly uncomfortable. Adverting his eyes. "And my condolences… for Tommy's mom."

"Whatever for?"

* * *

His apartment is just how he left it. Seemingly nothing out of place upon initial inspection. Half of the things in his fridge have gone bad, tossed to the garbage and then that carried unceremoniously to the trashshute down the hall. One of his neighbours catching him as he was returning to his door, quickly avoiding his gaze and shuffling the opposite way. Leaving Gordon a bit beside himself until he realizes what a mess he is.  There’s still blood caked in his beard.

He grabs a glass of water. Showers and brushes his teeth. Happy to get layers of grime and sweat off. Scrubbing free all the stubborn dead skin and getting the thick grease out of his long hair. After days of being coated in blood, sewage, slime and god knows what else it feels remarkably refreshing to get clean. Simpy amazing to drink something that isn’t caffeinated sugary soda or shitty five dollar pizza.

Gordon even shaves, touching up his goatee and sideburns. Long hair pulled back into a ponytail as he examines himself in the mirror.

He looks like shit. The bags under his eyes dark and pronounced. A few grey hairs popping up here and there. He looks paler than he remembers and a bit on the thinner side.

Had they really been in the bowels of Black Mesa that long? It only felt like a couple of days? Coomer had said twelve days at some point but that didn’t feel right like most of what he babbled on about. Checking the calendar doesn’t help, considering there was no way in knowing how time moved while stuck in Benrey’s alien dimension. Though he’s lost two weeks officially.

Gordon doesn’t bother to check his mail, barely registering his answering machine after he presses play on the dozen or so messages he's accumulated. He considers trying to watch tv but worries that any explosion or similar string of violence could trigger something he's not prepared to handle. Can’t bring himself to even consider the horrors playing on the local news stations. Not knowing what would be worse. A full cover up or a bunch of stories detailing those murdered on the compound and the questions following Black Mesa’s collapse.

Would there be government operatives at his door?

Or was he more likely to just be killed in his sleep?

Tommy’s father hadn’t given them any warning or indication at the end of the party, but he had pulled a gun on Gordon and seemed rather dismissive when asked about what they should do next. Only offering that they get a good night’s rest and celebrate their freedom. In hindsight the 'while it lasted' seemed rather apparent. But maybe that was just his paranoia getting the better of him. Mr. Coolatta had been quite helpful and understanding all things considered. Far less troublesome to deal with then the other alien in their midst, if that's even what he was. Gordon really needed to get his head screwed back on straight. A stiff drink and a blowjob were in order god willing. Though right now he's just happy to be alone.

And now that he’s home, Gordon’s fatigue has caught up with him.

Barely making it to his room before he's collapsing onto his bed. Glasses clumsily torn off and tossed aways before his eyelids are falling shut. Sealed in the promise of sleep. Still tense, still cautious but quickly giving in to the temptations of sleep as his exhaustion finally beats him down. Carrying Gordon off into blissfully empty dreams.

* * *

Gordon gets a call from his mother, who admittedly he was never all that close too. But he appreciates the effort even if he knows she's only calling because of the rumors surrounding him since he left Black Mesa.

He’d already had to turn away a couple reporters and journalists asking for him to make a statement or offering him various rewards in return for being an anonymous source. Though he wasn’t sure if his NDA was still in place, he was sure though that Tommy’s dad wouldn’t be too pleased if he went around talking about the classified events that had unfolded in the New Mexico desert. Even if his heart did grieve for the poor families of the other scientists who’d never made it out. At least his son wouldn’t have to grow up without a father.

Even if he was absent, he was still alive. Not everyone’s kid would get the same sentiment. Though for his own well being he tried not to dwell on it. Least he struggle with any more nightmares.

"Hello-?"

He's cut off by a slew of frantic shouting from his mother. Who berates him for never calling. For getting caught up in something terrible. Before praising him for coming home while allegedly so many other employees died in some nondescript accident. Gushing about a variety of things. Suggesting he could get a promotion now that there was less competition. He's almost impressed with how little room she gives him to chime in or attempt to defend himself. Though eventually she tires herself out, needing to catch her breath and take a sip of what he knows must be an expensive glass of wine.

They're able to have an actual conversation at last.

There's a brief moment in the mindless chatter where Gordon recalls the events of the Resonance Cascade, something in particular sticking out to him. An uncertainty twisting in his gut. Lingering at the edges of his thoughts with the what if's and the same damning onslaught of guilt. He struggles to find his voice before blurting into the phone, "Did I know a Benrey as a kid?"

His mother falls painfully silent. Laughing quietly into her glass, "Oh Gordie where did that come from?"

He doesn't respond. Hearing her sigh on the other end. Eyes fixated on the ceiling. "It's been a long time since you've brought up Benny. I'd nearly forgotten myself. But then. I should still have some drawings somewhere in the house. You used to be quite the little artist. Why I remember when you drew on the walls and blamed him for it. Your father was furious, had to repaint the _entire_ thing."

It feels like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over him. Chest tightening. Hit with a wave of nausea. Breath caught in his throat. Needing to swallow the bile that threatens to force it’s way across his tongue, "Who was he?"

"Oh sweetheart, he was just an imaginary friend! You’d go off and come back with all these creative little stories. Your drawings concerned your teacher and we were advised to take you to see someone that worked with children but- I wasn't about to let that ludicrous woman tell me how to raise you. Perfectly normal for children to have an overactive imagination. And I was right! Once we moved you grew out of it. Never heard you speak of it again. Don't know what she was on about."

He falls deaf to his mother's following tirade of things she hated about his preschool teacher. Biting his cheek when he catches some rather vulgar language from the woman, cruelly reminded of why he never calls home.

"You said you still have drawings? Could you send them to me? I'll pay you back for the postage. But." He tries to think clearly. Come up with a good excuse, "Joshua has started talking about an imaginary friend. I want to know how to relate to him and be a better father. It'll… It'll be something we can share."

She falls for it. "I'll have to sort through the attic. Oh but it'll be nice to revisit those memories. I haven't touched anything since we moved into the new house. You could always come visit. Bring Joshua for a weekend.”

Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and frowns but keeps his tone casual. "Can't. I've got work and would need to try and hash it out with Emily. You know how she is."

He feels bad for throwing his ex under the bus but his mother makes a sound of agreement and then carries on to insult and chew out the woman who she believes has slighted their family. God forbid that they were just incapable. Gordon pulls the phone away so his frustrated sigh can go unheard. Content to let his mother continue to rant from one thing to the next. With little input or contribution from his end. Until he's saying his goodbyes. Phone feeling incredibly heavy in his hand before he tosses it onto the coffee table. Head falling into his hands as he tries to calm his frantic breathing. Push down the terrible churning in his stomach as his mind runs rampant.

Because he knows that logically, this simply couldn't be happening.

It had to all be some sort of mistake.

He gets the drawings a week later. Surprised his mother actually remembered at all.

Tearing open the large envelope. Hands trembling as he grabs the stack and begins filing through the childish chicken scratch.

He was no artist, especially not at that age but it’s clear enough that he feels his heart sink. Throat growing tight as he stares at each crude illustration. Benry was written. Easy to see how his poor attempts at an r looked like another n. The other figure changing from one drawing to the next. At times a dark mass. Another childlike shape, that matched his drawings of himself and his parents. And then just. A variety of drawings he could understand frightening a well meaning and underpaid preschool teacher.

_ Too many eyes and mouths.  _

Strange shapes and shaky symbols he can't make out clearly. One in which the abundance of red reminds him of blood or the strange water's they'd found themselves in when fighting Benrey.

He stops on one illustration of two smiling circles holding hands.

Kids were shit at anatomy.

The paper crumpling in his grasp. Tearing at the edges before he threw the stack of papers, only for the loose sheets to gently flutter across his kitchen floor. The weight in his stomach too much as the room spun. Gordon rushing to the sink to violently vomit into the drain. Heaving as he turns on the tap. Washing out his mouth and the sink before putting his head under the stream of cool water.

Shutting it off he fell to his knees. Twisting until he was seated on the floor, back to the cabinet. Trying to breath. Trying to uphold the dam keeping him sane.

At some point he gets his phone. Having to take a moment and frantically pull out the napkin he’d shoved into his wallet back at the Chuck E Cheese. Tired eyes trailing over the hastily scribbled numbers as he pushes in the corresponding buttons. Fingers tangling in the cord as he waits through the torturous ring tone. Slamming his head back when he's met with an answering machine. Voice croaking after the telltale beep. "Tommy…. I- _I fucked up man."_

* * *

He’s expecting the other scientist when his doorbell rings. Instead when he opens the door it’s a man in full uniform, mask and everything.

His heart leaps up into his throat. Right hand tightening almost painfully on the doorknob as they stand and stare at each other expectantly. Gordon unable to find the other man’s eyes behind the dark lenses. There’s a soft click as his voice filters through, cutting away the tense silence hanging between them. “Gordon Freeman?”

He swallows thickly. Glancing off to the side, which earns him a shift in the soldier’s legs. Expecting him to run. He looks back to the man, spots the two other soldiers standing in the hall behind him. Weapons drawn. Taking his time to close his eyes, sigh and resign himself to what he knew was about to happen. What he'd been expecting the night he got back home. Gordon steels himself, adjusting his glasses and squaring his shoulders. “Yes. I’m Doctor Freeman.”

“Step outside, put your hands behind your back and face the wall.”

He nods. Holding up his hands, “Can I at least lock the door?”

The soldier grabs him by the front of his shirt and drags him out of the apartment, the two soldiers flanking him squeezing by to rush in. Presumably looking for something in particular. Gordon doesn’t resist. Staying silent as he’s pushed into the nearest wall. Wincing when he catches sight of one of his older neighbours peeking out from their door.

He’s escorted down the elevator and through the lobby, which is crawling with more armoured soldiers, before being taken outside towards one of their vehicles. The hand on his arm is bruising, but he doesn’t try to pull away or complain. None the less he's still shoved and manhandled into the back of the truck. Stumbling into another body with a grunt. The little light offered from the evening sky cuts to darkness as the doors are slammed shut and sealed from the outside with a whining crunch of the mechanism sliding into place. Trapping him like a rat in a cage.

Gordon is abruptly pushed off whoever he's fallen into, straight to the hard floor. Cursing and getting back to his feet as his blinks rapidly to try and get his eyes to adjust at a quicker pace. Though he knows from the slew of insults and huffs that it’s Bubby he'd collided with when thrown in. The older scientist shifting where he’s seated, hands also behind his back. Brow furrowed, teeth bared in a sharp scowl and slim shoulders hunched. Looking much smaller than is appropriate for someone his age.

But it makes sense when next to him is Coomer whose nose appears to be broken, the bridge askew while purple blossoms around one of his attentive eyes. The older man's white mustache has been painted red as blood gushes from his nostrils, dripping from his bruised chin onto a casual blue button up. Trademark smile still in place, though failing to reach his eyes as he delivers a merry, “Hello Gordon!” As if right on cue.

“Hey, Dr. Coomer.” He mutters back, a tad unsettled when reminded of the last time he’d been face to face with a bloodied and beaten Coomer. Taking the seat across from the older pair as opposed to sticking to the floor. Good timing on his part because the truck they’re in lurches forward and starts on a steady pace as soon as he touches the metal seat. Jostling Gordon into the back door. Never thought he’d end up in the back of a paddy wagon. Is that what it was called? Gordon doesn’t know and right now he’s not too worried about it. Instead more concerned on where they’re going.

He tries to recenter his glasses on his shoulder. Hands uncomfortably cramped behind him as he shifts his wrists in the confines of the high tech cuffs. Already feeling claustrophobic in this cramped box. He hopes he never has to crawl through another vent for as long as he lives. “So. They got you too huh?”

“No shit. What clued you in genius?!” Bubby hisses and twists, kicking weakly at the other scientist's leg. Coomer says nothing and doesn't appear phased, so Bubby goes on, “This idiot actually let them into the house!”

“They asked to come in.” Coomer raises his brows expectantly. Speaking as if it's only logical that he uphold social etiquette. Bubby whips around to glare at him. Gordon’s half surprised Coomer doesn’t burst into flames right then and there.

“Well whoopy fuckin doo! Cause now we’re all gonna fucking die. So I hope you’re happy! Knew it was a mistake to stay in this shithole. Should have gotten a ticket out of here. Should have gotten as far away from Black Mesa and all of you as is physically possible! Shoot myself back into space if given the option. Spare me from having to deal with this kinda bullshit."

“You don’t mean that,” Coomer’s voice drops it’s friendly twinge. Lowering in tone and pitch. Gordon shivers despite himself, pressing up against the wall of the truck. Bubby grunts, unmoved. Gordon cuts him off before he can say anything else. Genuinely worried about Coomer losing it when they’re stuck in a metal box less than a foot apart.

“What’s done is done. And for the record I don’t think leaving the country would have really mattered. It’s why I didn’t even leave my apartment and I’m guessing that’s why neither of you left either. We all knew this was coming. Wasn’t like they’d just let us go after what happened in Black Mesa.”

“So much for wiping out the united states military aye Gordon?"

“Well Forzen was French Canadian right?” He quirks a brow and tries to recall much of what he's tried desperately to forget. He did spot the red maple leaf sewn in with the rest of his patches, “I think it's fair to say this goes beyond just America. If the aliens are involved, could fucking mean this is on an international or intergalactic scale. We really have no idea how far up this goes."

“Do you hear yourself?” Bubby snaps. Gordon bites right back at him.

“Well if you’d like to contribute instead of just bitching then that’d be great! At least Coomer and I are trying to keep things moving and think of something!”

Bubby glares at him, he meets him head on. The two locked in a tense stare, neither moving to break their gaze until Coomer is the one to clear his throat. Both scientists looking to him instead as he offers a small smile, “Now now gentleman. I’m sure everything will be alright in the end. We just have to stick together and I know we can overcome anything they try to throw at us. We beat’em once, we’ll bet’em again!"

Gordon appreciates the attempt, nodding before leaning his head back. The bumps on the road not helping his sudden migraine. “Yeah… I mean. We beat Benrey. How hard could this be?”

Bubby’s harsh expression falls, lips twisting into a fearful frown as his brows furrowed. Causing Gordon to hold back a wave of nausea. The trio don’t say much else, assuming that there must be others listening. Bubby despite his earlier accusations and insults, leans his head against Coomer’s shoulder and Coomer in return tilts into him and closes his eyes. Gordon focusing on the floor between his bare feet as the conversation hits its end. At least he's wearing socks though they're mismatched. One orange the other a soft pink. Guess he's lucky he answered the door in jeans instead of his boxers.

Thankfully his nausea doesn't make him vomit into the laps of the other two scientists. A miracle given the sway and bounce of the vehicle. But his anxiety is like a static filled charge continuously fluttering about in his chest, searching for an outlet that isn’t going to come. Knee bouncing rapidly as he tries to count under his breath and keep as calm as is humanly possible given the frightful circumstances.

Hold the beast at bay.

“Gordon?” He doesn’t open his eyes to look at the man but hums in response. Coomer pauses for a prolonged moment before continuing quietly. As if trying not to rouse Bubby back into hysterics. “Do you think they're going to kill us?"

"Maybe? That or prison. We did kill a lot of people back there." People with families and Gordon can't say all of it was in self defense or really even justified at times. Though in hindsight. None of the scientists they killed had suffered. For those taken by the headcrabs or kept alive as experiments, a quick and painless death was something of a mercy. Though it still feels _wrong_. Leaving a bad taste in his mouth even after all this time. Not that he could have done anything to possibly stop it from happening. He'd tried after all.

Try telling his survivor’s guilt that.

"What should we do?"

Gordon glances up to properly acknowledge the man and for the first time since he came back over the ridge, Coomer looks well and truly terrified. Something about it.... Makes his chest ache but it helps give him the boost of confidence needed to ground himself. As he struggles to find his voice before promptly narrowing his eyes. Putting on what he hopes is a convincing act.

"Same thing we've always done. We survive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never played Half Life but I did read some of the wiki pages :v so I'm borrowing some elements and bits of lore but that's it lmao. The HLVRAI lore and portrayals take precedent. That said there's gonna be plenty of my own hcs thrown in.
> 
> This is my first proper fic in ages and essentially my first fic on ao3. I'm gonna need a little time to adjust and get used to everything.  
> Criticism and tips are encouraged!
> 
> Things will get pretty dark later on for death and violence (basically I play up the murder and gun violence in the series straight so when someone's shot it's serious), and I'm a fan of Eldritch Abomination Benrey so possible body horror, so heads up if that's not your thing!
> 
> Tile and first chapter is from Autoheart's Lent, all chapter titles will likely be taken from song lyrics.
> 
> Thank you for reading~
> 
> Edit*** August 24, 2020.  
> This fic contains various elements and themes some people might find squicky or triggering.  
> Like characters being extremely flawed and doing terrible things, children being abused or neglected, characters being dehumanized and tortured, ect ect ect.  
> There will be flirting and possibly steamy scenes or discussion of sex and sexuality, but no smut.   
> I try to put tw's at the beginning of chapters but I don't always realize what others find offensive or upsetting, so feel free to leave a comment with suggestions.  
> I'm not attempting to romanticize anything, this fic is for entertainment.  
> Don't date gamers that bullied and tried to kill you. Don't be friends with evil scientists that kill innocent people. Don't trust G-Man.  
> The tone and atmosphere of this fic can and will get incredibly dark and possibly upsetting. It is about survival, as well as forgiveness. If you're worried about being triggered please take care of yourself first and foremost. Heed the tw's and if it's not your cup of tea power to ya. Stay safe.
> 
> Please don't be afraid to leave critical reviews, I can't get better or fix my mistakes if no one tells me what I did wrong. I just ask that you're civil and constructive.


	2. The Undone and The Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But I must warn you Dr. Freeman. You three are some of the few remaining from the Black Mesa incident, and you are the only ones to have seen beyond the portal and returned to Earth. Many of my colleagues deem you three to be a loose end or even a threat.   
> So I suggest you take my offer and cooperate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence, dehumanization, abuse and death warnings for this chapter and onward.  
> As well as some fleeting mentions of sexuality.

The truck comes to a stop after what feels like several hours has passed. The three scientists were cramped and sore. As was intended, surely. The ceiling’s not even high enough to properly stand in, meant to jostle the trio and throw them off their game by bouncing them around like three rats being shock around in a shoe box. Same with the unique restraints, standard police issued handcuffs just wouldn’t do apparently. Though with how they handled all the soldiers they’d come across back in Black Mesa, perhaps that was simply a given. 

Gordon hastily asks Coomer if he can break the cuffs with his enhancements and the sly smirk he receives in response is oddly comforting despite the tense confrontation that awaits them. Buddy is much less enthused. Sweating and frantic. Hissing in hushed whispers. "They know who we are. We can't fight them Gordon!”

"We have to try."

Hearing his own conviction helped strengthen his resolve.

They weren’t just going to turn over and take it. These assholes wanted them? They had to fucking work for it. They didn’t kill an eldritch god and a small army just to get docile now.

Coomer waits until the same telling screech sounds as the latch is turned and the doors unlocked before snapping his cuffs. Metal shards showering down just as the dual doors are thrown open. The older scientist tackling the soldier who was ready to receive them. Gordon and Bubby follow. Gordon kicks one man in the back as he tumbles out, shoulder checking another off his feet as he rises. Bubby despite his outspoken doubts rolls and leaps into action. The unfortunate bastard caught in his sights is ignited into a hellish burst of flames. Shrieking behind his gasmask, gun going off before cluttering to the pavement.

Coomer lifts the subdued soldier he'd quicken gotten the advantage of in the element of surprise. Arm broken and twisted behind his back as he uses the man for a meat shield and potentially even a battering ram if necessary. Gordon’s about to shout for him to break his restraints so he can grab one of their guns when Coomer goes rigid. Eyes shockingly wide as he's seemingly frozen in place. 

Gordon tries to speak when Bubby shrieks to his left, cutting him off. The bald doctor collapsing to his knees and curling in on himself as his spine arches painfully. Another ear piercing scream torn from his throat startling Gordon. He doesn't even have time to react before the butt of a shotgun hits him in the face. Catching him at an odd angle. The swift blow sent him tumbling to the ground before the barrel was pointed and pressed against his cheek. Unable to do anything else but glare up at the masked man hovering above him who releases a filtered chuckle at the dramatic display. 

Gordon’s only able to flinch when a heavy boot comes hurtling towards his unprotected face.

  
  


He comes to, in a cell. A mangled heap of stiff limbs on the floor. Everything fucking hurts. His head’s pounding like it's about to explode and maybe it is. Wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest after all the weird shit he’s seen. At least then he wouldn’t have to stand the agonizing throbbing of his brain within a potentially damaged skull. He hopes he isn't suffering from a concussion.

The whole right side of his face is tender and one of his ankles feels sprained, perhaps twisted when he’d rushed out of the truck. Deep violet tinged with sickly yellow mars his skin from where the metal cuffs had bitten into his wrists. Regardless of the pain and ache in his muscles, Gordon forces himself to his feet and surveys the blurry room. A small cell with a metal slab sticking out of the wall and a toilet with accompanying sink built into it's design. But not much else. Thankfully he finds his glasses left at the end of the bed, one of the lenses has been cracked. Either during the scuffle or maliciously he can’t say. Wouldn’t put anything past these sadistic fucks. He curses and reluctantly puts them on, squinting through the split as best he can. Not really given any other option. As he continues looking about there's no window and the two slots in the heavy metal door, one at eye height and the other on the bottom, are sealed firmly shut. He does spot a camera in the upper right corner. Promptly flipping it off before moving to sit on the makeshift bed. Assured now that there’s other cameras hidden about. The one that’s noticeable is some sort of red herring meant to give him a false sense of control.

Bringing his feet up to sit crossed legged on the hard surface, he’s not sure whether to scream, laugh or cry. He hadn’t even gotten to see Joshua after getting out of Black Mesa… Though he knows that honestly he’d never made an effort. Just couldn't bring himself to call his ex and set up the dates. Not when there was so much on his mind. So many evenings where to silence his inner monologue and chase away the rampant blood soaked nightmares he'd drank himself to sleep. Perhaps that was for the best. He can’t imagine what would have happened if they’d come for him when he had his son. Probably would have ripped the small child out of his arms. From there? Who knows.

Gordon strains to see if he can hear guards outside his door or perhaps even neighboring inmates if the walls are thin enough. But nothing breaks through the silence but his uneven breathing and the rushing of blood in his ears. Gordon can do nothing but close his eyes and try to collect his thoughts. Think, plan and theorize.

Keep himself from going insane.

* * *

Around this time of day is when he’s fed. The most basic slop one could imagine pushed through the bottom slot to skirt across the floor. At first he’d refused to eat it. Shoving the tray as hard as he could back out and then refusing to give it back period. The small collection of flimsy plastic was pushed off to the corner. He knew he could break one, make a decent sized shard to use as some sort of shank but he was biding his time. Having to guess how long it would take for whoever was watching the cameras to rat him out to the guards patrolling his door and the adjacent hall.

And eventually starvation won out. Risking the presence of drugs to quench his righteous hunger and water from the sink’s tap to ease his parched throat. If he was being medicated or poisoned, he didn’t feel any different? But he also wasn’t that type of doctor.

When the metal slot screeches open, instead of his lunch a small bit of light filters into his cell and he stands reflexively. Walking to meet the dark eyes of a typical maskless guard, the kind he was used to dealing with back at his job albeit a different uniform, a bit of a relief when he confirms that it’s not one security guard in particular. Glaring back he hears them mumble something to whoever is with them in the hall before he speaks directly to Gordon. The first time they’ve addressed him in the days or perhaps even weeks he’s been here. No sense of time and seemingly no schedule, all meant to fuck with his head and perception of time.

“Back away from the door. Hands on the wall.”

“Fuck you,” He slurs tiredly. Crossing his arms. When the door opens he’s expecting to be grabbed or hit. Not struck with an electrified baton. A shocked gasp ripped from his lips as he tumbles back and raises his hands to try and fruitlessly protect himself. The glorified cattle prod is raised in warning and bitterly, Gordon complies. Hands to the wall as he’s quickly frisked, more for show than anything he’s sure, and then turned around and cuffed. These restraints are less advanced than what he was put in originally.

Simple but heavy metal cuffs latched tightly around his wrists and ankles, all connected with a series of chains. To restrict his range of movement. As he shuffles out of his cell, squinting and turning his head from the bright fluorescent lights, he’s suddenly aware of how wretched he must smell. Tugging at his shirt uncomfortably as the guard escorting him shoves his back to keep him moving.

There were two flanking his door and several more stationed throughout the hall. Several doors marked only in large numbers. No way of knowing which one’s were empty or filled, if at all. Though he hopes desperately that his friends aren’t sealed away.

Prays to whatever alien god will listen that Bubby isn’t in another tube and Coomer isn’t being experimented on or cloned against his will. Though he knows better.

He’s brought to what looks like a standard interrogation room, minus the sheet of one way glass. Plenty of cameras though he’s sure. Even if he can’t see them. He’s pushed into a chair and his restraints are fiddled with. So he’s chained to the table, hands resting on the cool surface. The guard leaves him, slamming the door shut and Gordon takes a look around. Not spotting anything of any real interest.

He’s left waiting for a bit when the door opens and in walks a well groomed bloke in a black suit. Large golden Rolex on his wrist and slicked back graying hair, giving the impression of some typical scumbag lawyer. The sort he’d always avoided getting caught up with when working for Black Mesa. God damn fucking bureaucrats. 

If he’s inhuman, he hides it better than Benrey and Mr. Coolatta did. Smiling in that silted way that so many businessmen do. Practiced and performed. Light eyes taking Gordon in, the corner of his lips twisting in what the scientist assumes is disgust or maybe even amusement. Something like that he’s sure. He sits across from Gordon and from his briefcase is a folder and a notepad. The click of the pen obscenely loud as he clears his throat and gets comfortable. Folding his hands and meeting Gordon’s eyes with a sales pitch at the ready.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. F-”

**_“Doctor.”_ ** He bites. Slouching and beginning to bounce his knee impatiently. Usually he’s not a stickler for the proper titles but he’s gonna make this as hard and irritating as he can for these government fuckwads.

However the one in question looks undisturbed at his tone, “Ah.  _ Apologies _ . Dr. Freeman… I’m Don and I’ll be handling your case personally. I can see you’re in no mood to dawdle, so let’s cut to the chase shall we? In exchange for your full compliance and honesty moving forward, not only will you be set free and cleared of all charges but you’ll be able to enjoy an early retirement. Plenty of time to then spend with your son.”

Gordon’s face scrunches up. Keenly aware of the unspoken threat, “Do I have your word that the others will be set free?”

He pauses and blinks. Smile never faltering, “Unfortunately I cannot guarantee anything revolving around the release of Dr. Bubby and Dr. Coomer.” Something about the way he says Bubby is off.  _ Forced _ . Like he had to catch himself from saying something else instead. Like some sort of identification number. “Both individuals have on their person, various implants, that belong to the company and government at large. As a former employee of Black Mesa, I’m sure you can understand why we’d be hesitant to lose our property.”

“Can’t have it going public that you’re doing experiments on humans.” He interjects. The man doesn’t respond but the unspoken yes hangs in the air over the table. “The unethical nature of human cloning and genetic manipulation isn’t something most folks would be behind.”

“You'd be surprised what the public comes to accept Dr. Freeman.” His smile twists to something more natural. Venomous and cruel. Gordon doesn’t budge. Defiant glare never wavering. He isn’t scared of this prick. Get him out of the handcuffs and he’ll kill him with his bare fucking hands at this point. Use the briefcase to bash in his perfect pearly teeth.

“All I ask at this moment, is that you answer a series of questions to the best of your ability. After that. I can speak to my superiors about your requests in reference to the other doctors. But those decisions are not mine to make.”  Gordon snorts. Finally the man is beginning to look annoyed. Carrying on with his script. “During your escapades within the Black Mesa compound, you traveled with three other scientists and a guard.” 

Gordon grits his teeth. “I believe his name was _Benrey?”_ He says nothing.

“Is it spelled with or without an e?” He muses. Turning to the notepad and beginning to scribble things down in horrendous handwriting. Every doctor knows that trick. The worse the writing the harder it is for other people to read. Less likely to fake a prescription or steal your notes. Not getting a response he writes the name however he feels most appropriate, “This guard- Benrey. Did you know him prior to the events following the Resonance Cascade?”

They definitely found those drawings he’d gotten from his mother. Gordon keeps quiet. The man hums pleasantly and writes something down. “See. You were raised in a small community. Did you know that within that community was one of our facilities? No? I’d assume not. It was defunct several years before you joined Black Mesa. Due to a containment breach of momental levels. That resulted in the deaths of many good men and women.”

“Can you guess what escaped?” He arches a well manicured brow. Chuckling before writing something else. “I’m sure you can. You’re a smart man Dr. Freeman. Your instructors at MIT spoke very highly of you and during the events of the Resonance Cascade you showed exemplary skill and proficiency as a leader. I’m sure without your guidance those three would have never made it out of the building alive.”

“But I’m getting carried away... You spent several days in close proximity with this Benrey. Do you care to give any sort of statement in what that was like? Anything in particular of note? Some… odd occurrences perhaps? Behavioral tics?”

Gordon sits up and taps his fingers against the table. “I want to speak to Mr. Coolatta.”

“Thomas?” He looks genuinely taken aback.

“No not Tommy. His dad. I wanna talk to his dad before I say anything else to any of you lousy corporate schmucks.”

The man has to take a moment to regain his composure, that forced practiced smile back firmly in place. “Dr. Freeman, Dr. Coolatta is an orphan? He aged out of the foster system, very sad of course, but I don’t know why he would lie to you?”

Gordon huffs, growing increasingly frustrated. “The man with blue- almost white eyes. Wears a blue suit? Talks funny. Looks a lot like Tommy does but creepier.”

“Dr. Freeman, I have no idea what you’re on about?”

It’s Gordon’s turn to smirk. Laughing under his breath with an accompanying sigh as he looks away from the man dismissively. Getting in his head for a turn, “Oh. I guess your superiors didn’t tell you about him. My mistake. Relay what I said and I’m sure someone has to know what I’m talking about. Or ask Tommy. His dad’ll sort this whole thing out I’m sure.”

He looks perplexed once more. Pen hovering over the page before he’s back to scribbling notes, taking his time with this one. Before he sits back and meets the scientist’s eyes once more, “You should know that Dr. Coolatta has gone missing. When we arrived at his home, there was no sign of him. Far as anyone can tell he’s vanished. No one’s been able to make sense of it. Many presume he’s died, body yet to be located.”

Gordon snarls. Slamming his fist against the table, glad to see that the businessman flinches back, “You’re fuckin lying!”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Tommy can’t die!” Gordon isn’t so sure. But. He can’t imagine his father just standing by and letting something awful happen to him. Though he recalls the comment about Tommy’s mother and suddenly he isn’t so sure. Clenching his jaw as he catches his breath. Shoving down his anger and his unease. Spitting out, “What about his dog?”

“Lost or dead. Wasn’t a priority but they found no animal on the premises.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. Falling lax in his chair and looking up to the ceiling. That has to mean Tommy’s alive. Sunkist is a magical immortal dog that can survive being shot. If Sunkist is out there then Tommy has to be as well, no way he could ever imagine the two of them separated. Which means there’s a chance. A chance Tommy and his dad are going to come for them.

Or that they left them to rot.

No. Not Tommy. He knows his friend is better than that. There’s not a hint of malice in that man’s pure heart. Of that Gordon is sure. Even if he was an amazing crack shot and had killed plenty of men and monsters in their travels.

“Your note about the man in the blue suit will be taken into consideration. As will your request. But I must  _ warn  _ you Dr. Freeman. You three are some of the few remaining from the Black Mesa incident, and you are the only ones to have seen beyond the portal and returned to Earth. Many of my colleagues deem you three to be a loose end or even a threat. So I suggest you take my offer and cooperate.”

“I am not your enemy,” He produces a case from his pocket. Sliding it across the table and gesturing for Gordon to see for himself. “If you work with us, you will find there are plenty of rewards to be had.”

Inside the case is a new pair of glasses. His eyes flick to the man who waits patiently, so discarding the damaged pair he puts on the new ones. They seem to be his prescription and no longer having to look through the crack is a relief. He leaves the case open, adjusting the glasses where they sit on his nose.

“Alright..” Gordon nods and sighs. The man positively beams in delight.

“Tell me everything you know about Officer Benrey.”

The scientist inhales, collecting a good amount of snot in the back of his throat before leaning forward and spitting it right into the smug bastard’s face. His eyes close instinctively but when they open there’s a quiet fury in their depths that delights Gordon enough to bare his teeth in a wide grin. Tapping his hands rhythmically against the table as he shouts, “YOU CAN GO  _ FUCK  _ YOURSELF.”

Don wipes his face clean on his sleeve with a look of sheer disgust. Shoving everything back into his briefcase he stands and gives Gordon the first genuine look since walking in. One of hatred and contempt. Gordon raises his brows and winks to which he scoffs and storms out of the room, “You’ll regret this Freeman. Don’t say we didn’t give you a chance.”

“Benrey’s a good kisser~” He sings after him as the door’s falling shut. Laughing bitterly before reality sets in and he’s back to stewing in frustration and concern. Complying with the guards that take him back to his cell. When he’s back without restraints he’s disappointed to see they cleaned things and took his tower of trays but thankfully he’s been left a change of clothes. Not a bad trade off.

Even if he still feels gross at least the new clothes offer something.

More than he bargained for, when he finds something in the pant leg. A slight weight and feel that’s out of place. If he had to guess, sewn inside is some sort of pocket. He looks to the cameras. Shouting out a ‘do you fucks get off to this shit?! To try and cover for his delayed moment of standing half naked in the dark room by himself.. Brushing it off as him being uncomfortable getting changed in front of others rather than him realizing what it was halfway through getting dressed.

He leaves it for now, trying to think of where and how he can look at what it is without being caught.

He pretends to masturbate and hopefully whoever’s watching the cameras isn’t some voyeuristic freak. Trying to have as much privacy as one could imagine given the circumstances, as if he was actually doing what he was pretending to be doing. Which is to cover as much of himself as he could and imagine he was somewhere else.

He must look fucking stupid.

Head and arms in his shirt, stretching it out, pants shimmied down his hips a bit. Curled up and facing the wall, trying to keep as little space as is possible in view. Playing off his blind fumbling as the usual motions and even some weirder shit if that’s what it took to sell it.

Sure enough he feels the pocket, digging in to pull out the slip of paper. Trying to read it inside his shirt while increasing his breathing and giving the occasional fake gasp. _God he feels like an idiot._ But his eyes quickly take in the writing and his heart bursts in a swell of relief. Smile so wide his face hurts after so many days spent frowning.

_ ‘Working on it. Stay strong. -D.’ _

Darnold. That son of a bitch.

Gordon could cry, the content sigh he lets out not faked in the slightest as he rests his head on the metal slab that’s become his bed. Smart enough that he immediately shoves the paper into his mouth and eats it. He doesn’t bother giving a climatic finish.

Instead giving a frustrated groan and slamming his head against the metal. Aggressively righting his clothes and playing it off as if he couldn’t finish. Let them talk shit. In the confines of his arms he’s hiding a smile and the beginnings of tears are already swelling at the corners of his eyes.

Never again will Gordon question the nature and value of potions. Sign him up for alchemy lessons.

* * *

Gordon feels like despite his best efforts, he’s going fucking crazy.

There’s only so long you can be kept in a box before you begin to lose it.

With no distractions he’s taken to trying to keep himself amused and distracted. Beginning by closing his eyes and making commentary to a phantom audience as he imagines the games he’s played. Then repeating segments of episodes of shows and movies he’d memorized pretty well over countless rewatches in his mind's eye. And then. Gordon begins to sing. He’s nowhere near as good as Benrey. Wincing at some of his own botched tones but doing his very best. Singing until his throat is sore and then until he loses his voice for a bit.

He’s used the slop they fed him to try and draw on the walls. Even tried breaking the tray, the moment he got a good angle on it the door had swung open.

Any time the guards come in he’s beaten, sometimes with fists and sometimes with the batons. Sometimes he does it just so they’ll hurt him. Bruises giving him some indication of the passage of time as they fester and then fade. Though at one point he’d been injected with a medkit and fully recovered when the guards had seemingly been deemed as going too far. A string of insults resulting in Gordon losing teeth. Which thanks to the miracles of modern science were fully recovered and sitting perfectly straight within his gums.

His showers were few and far between. Humiliating as he was forced under a cold spray in front of two guards at east. But welcomed when they arrived. A cheap bar of soap and freezing water was better than nothing.

It was all part of an attempt to break him. Crack him like an egg so he’d spill all the dirty little secrets they were looking for. Admittedly he’s surprised he hasn’t been effectively tortured and properly interrogated yet. Making him think that someone, somewhere, wants and needs him alive. The thought brings him little comfort.

He hadn’t seen the businessman looking Don since their last discussion. Not that Gordon cared to hear him out. Even if they promised to let all three of them go, Gordon knew better. As soon as they got what they wanted they’d be taken care of and erased. For all he knew, he could have already been legally declared dead.

Darnold was gonna get them out, Gordon was sure that he was working with Tommy. They’d get out and work on where to go on from there. Take the entire world on if they had to.

He just hopes that things come to an end sooner than later.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take.

* * *

Gordon is restrained and taken out of his cell. He complies and is stricken by how weak he is when grabbed and manhandled. How much weight he’s lost when forced to move. His thighs and gut noticeably smaller. Things keep going at this rate and he’s gonna lose any muscle definition he’d had to begin with.

Instead of the interrogation room Gordon is taken outside. It’s after sunset so he’s not blinded by natural light but the fluorescent bulbs lighting up the area still burn his eyes. Triggering a headache as his temples throb. He’s practically dragged through what seems to be some sort of courtyard. To a series of damaged and stained posts.

Bubby and Coomer are already tried and gagged.

_ They look fucking awful. _

Bubby is still wet with teal liquid from his tube, damp clothes clinging to his thin body. Blood seeping when the various spots where they must have been injecting him with all manner or things. Red dripping down his skin or staining his prison threads.

Coomer’s head is shaved. Hair and mustache gone. Without a shirt Gordon can see the various surgical marks scarring his arms and torso. Most seemingly  _ fresh _ . Stitches still red and angry.

Gordon screams their names, tries to rip free from the guard guiding him to rush to his friends. But is held firmly in place. Taken at the pace they’ve decided for him. His restraints are tied to the post so like the others his arms are pulled taunt above his head.

Bubby glances up at his shouting, eyes giving a familiar half hearted glare. Mumbling something against the gag shoved in his mouth.

Gordon hangs, and looks at Bubby. They share a nod of comradery and of acceptance. Grinning despite how much everything hurts. Despite the tears that threaten his eyes. “You didn’t tell them jack shit did you?”

Bubby shakes his head. Gordon nods and laughs. “Fuck’em.”

Coomer’s still out. Gordon’s chest aches just glancing in his direction. He looks so broken. So small. Worse than the various clones they’d seen broken and strewn about like discarded dolls.

It’s the same businessman as before. Though he’s ditched his jacket. Speaking into his flip phone as the line of guards get their guns readied for the firing squad. He hums and ‘uh huhs’ into the receiver, giving Gordon a fleeting glance as he picks up a pistol laid out on the table next to them. Laughing loudly at something unheard when the doors Gordon was guided through swing open and the person they drag out has his stomach sinking. Swallowing to keep from vomiting onto himself.

Darnold’s temple is oozing blood. Instead of the prison wear the other’s are in, he’s dressed like he usually is sans the lab coat. Set to Gordon’s right. The lineup is complete. He’s muttering and talking to himself. Giving Gordon a frantic pleading look as he’s tied up in place. He whispers that he’s sorry to the potion marker. Starting on the edge of his long coming breakdown when they’re rudely interrupted.

“Dr. Freeman! I’m sure we’d all like to get this over with rather quickly.” Don doesn’t wait for a response instead walking past the line of guards towards those on death’s row. Checking the pistol he’s taken is loaded and the safety’s off. “I’m going to ask again for your cooperation.”

The barrel is pointed at Coomer.

Gordon’s eyes widen and he struggles fruitlessly to get free. “Don’t- DON’T SHOOT HIM!”

“When did you meet officer Benrey?”

He hesitates, so he shoots Coomer's knee. That jostles him awake, a agonized scream muffled by the fabric in his mouth. Wide panicked eyes fixated on his assaulter who only has eyes for Gordon.

“The day of the Resonance Cascade-” He sweats. Bubby and Darnold are staring at him, though he can’t spare them a glance. Speaking so fast he gets tongue tied. Frantic, his whole body feels like its been electrified. Like static is trying to claw its way out of his lungs, “B--but Benrey said we knew each other as children! That we were best friends, I didn’t believe him until I called my mom!”

“Good.” The vulture smiles wickedly, but keeps the gun to Coomer’s head. “What were any strange behaviors or actions Benrey had that stuck out to you?”

“The Black Mesa Sweet Voice!” His tone is getting progressively more panicked, tears now freely burning and leaking from the corners of his eyes. “He’d sing and these balls would come out of his mouth. If you ate them they’d calm you down. He could also use it to encase you in a cocoon. He used it as a way to communicate his feelings!”

“He’d die and then- and then he’d come back! Sometimes I’d see him as a skeleton. Sometimes they saw him and sometimes they didn’t! Sometimes the skeletons were there when Benrey was alive. They seemingly fought for him- he told them to leave Tommy alone!”

“He was weird, aggressive, petty. He was obsessed with passports. _Wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone!_ Said the reason why- why everything happened was because I had a dickslip- And my dickslip ruined his shift or something?! And that stopped him from being able to play Heaveningly Sword with his buddy Josh-'' Despite the man’s bewildered and honestly taken aback expression Gordon keeps going, “He was good with the soldiers- Forzen said they used to be friends? But then one moment they’d be chillin and the next they’d kill him?! And I don’t think they knew he could come back so I don’t know what the fuck that was about? But he worked with them to set a trap and they cut my fuckin arm off-”

“Alright! _Alright_. Easy Dr. Freeman. Breath before you pass out.” Don sighs and shifts his footing. Gordon catches his breath and gulps. Bubby’s expression is unreadable while Darnold looks similarly confused. Looking at Gordon like he’s lost his mind. “See that wasn’t so hard was it.”

“What happened after you went into the portal?”

Gordon frowns. Sighing and hanging his head in defeat, “We fought Benrey. We destroyed all his passports and we killed him once and for all once taking away his power.”

The man sneers, tsks. “Come on now. Don’t lie to me Freeman. _ What, **happened**?” _

Gordon blinks, “We killed him. We did! I don’t know if he stayed dead but we shot him until he exploded!”

Don tsks once again, like a disappointed father catching his son in a lie. Pulling back the hammer on his pistol. Bubby begins shouting but it isn’t clear behind the gag what he’s saying. He’s looking at Gordon, trying to convey something. But Gordon doesn’t understand. Eyes flicking between him and the businessman and to his wounded friend. What does Bubby expect him to do? What could he possibly say?!  **_“I’M TELLING THE TRUTH?!?”_ **

“One last chance. What happened, before you came back to Earth?”

Gordon goes limp in his binds. Blinking helplessly. Trying to convey his desperation. His truth. “We fought Benrey and won.”

But that’s seemingly not good enough.

The trigger is pulled and Coomer’s head bursts in a shower of blood and brains. Bubby flinching something fierce but still looking at Gordon. Likely unable to bring himself to see Coomer die. Still trying to desperately scream something at him that he can’t make out. Especially not now that his ears are ringing from the blast and he’s gone numb to his surroundings. Eyes fixated on Coomer’s body. The tears now flowing freely with no chance of stopping. Bile rising in his throat as Gordon lets out a pathetic and pitiful sob. Too broken to care about his pride.

It should have been him.

“Or were you actually telling the truth after all?” The pistol, barrel still warm, lifts up his chin. He glares weakly at a satisfied looking Don who examines his face earnestly before nodding in satisfaction. “My mistake. But understandable I’m sure, who could ever believe that you four idiots could have managed to kill a god.”

He chuckles and allows Gordon’s head to fall. Once his back is turned he pays no mind to the seething, _“I’ll kill you.”_ That follows him.

“I think that’s about as much use as we’ll get out of them. Don’t you lads agree?” He addresses the guards. One of whom gives him a knowing smirk before readying his rifle. Darnold utters a prayer. Bubby is still staring at Gordon, though he can’t bear to meet his eyes.

A muffled utterance drawing his attention. The look of sad attentiveness startling him out of his blunder. As he whips his head back at the businessman, “We can tell you more about Benrey!”

“That’s quite alright. I’ve heard enough.” He pulls out and lights a cigarette, leaning up against one of the tables carrying their ammo and array of additional firearms. “That’s enough to please my superiors and enough to write you off as clinically insane.”

The captain of the guard shouts for his men to, “Steady. Take aim. Fire!”

“Goodbye Dr. Freeman.”

And Gordon squeezes his eyes shut to the symphony of bullets.


	3. I Think You're Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You get used to this shit.”
> 
> “Do you really?”
> 
> “No.”

Instead of being shot with bullets, he’s pelted with paintballs. They still fuckin hurt as they burst against his clothed body but not nearly as much as he’d imagine getting shredded with bits of metal would be. The colourful splatters making a Jackson Pollock inspired rainbow across his body and face.

Glances to his right and left revealing the same for Darnold and Bubby, who seem equally as shocked to be alive.

The most surprised of all is the captain and the businessman who stand flabbergasted. The cigarette tumbling from Don’s gaping mouth as he raises his pistol and fires at Gordon himself. At some point from the muzzle flare to when it hits him, the bullet transforms into a paint pellet. Splattering violet across the scientist’s jaw with a startled grunt in response.

Don looks at the gun in sheer disbelief.  The courtyard goes silent as seemingly no one is sure how to respond.  Until he begins to look visibly distressed. Tossing the gun to the ground, grabbing the captain by the arm and rushing back into the building.

One guard stands up from his firing position with a simple, “What are our orders?”

“KILL THEM WITH YOUR BARE HANDS IF YOU HAVE TO!” The businessman screams back. They look amongst themselves before lowering their guns.

Someone tries shooting Bubby, but again. _Paintballs_. He turns to shoot his coworker in the leg and blows a hole through his calf. As that guy shrieks, falls and clings to the bleeding limb the rest look and mutter nervously among themselves. Gordon hopes desperately. Hopes that it’s Tommy but still looks over each guard’s face closely just to be sure.

One of them pulls out a knife and just, shrugs before making his way over to Gordon. Grabbing a fistful of his tangled and greasy hair. Gordon fights but still has his head forced back, baring his neck. Lamb to the slaughter. Darnold and Bubby scream out to him. And the hand going to slit his throat reaches back just as it catches on fire. The man thankfully stumbles back as he’s ignited. Gordon shooting Bubby a terrified but thankful look and in response Bubby shakes his head, likewise amazed.

After seeing that the guards make no move towards the trio.

Nor do they make any move to put out their coworker as he burns alive. The rancid smell making Gordon's nose scrunch up in disgust. Nothing worse than burning hair and plastic.

Gordon spares a glance to Darnold who narrows his brows and gives him the nod of _‘go for it’_ and so he does. Gordon grins, the paint that’s gotten into his mouth tasting awful, “You’ve seen what happened to your buddies?! You let us go, and maybe our friends won’t kill you next!”

They look unsure. Until the guy still bleeding on the ground screams out, “I’m not dying for those fucking assholes are you kidding me?!”

That seems to do it. As the rest of the guards agree and after a brief moment of deliberation, in which two take the arms of their wounded brother and three others go about releasing the scientists. As soon as he’s free Gordon rushes to Coomer only to falter and fall to his knees when he realizes that no.

He’s still…  **_dead_ ** .

Why? Why was he different?

Bubby rips the damp gag out of his mouth and promptly kicks Gordon in the side, sending him to the ground and startling him out of his grief, “ IT’S A CLONE NUMBNUTS!”

“What?!” He balks.

“Coomer was one of the few successful attempts they had in cloning, thanks to his DNA and resilience, they weren’t going to sacrifice that just for some cryptic information about Benrey! And you can’t make clones from a clone! They had to keep him alive. Why else would his scars be fresh?”

Gordon blinks away the paint and tears in his lashes. Grinning and giving an unconvincing bewildered laugh before turning to spit the colourful mixture now coating his spit, “Holy shit? I thought they must have taken out his cybernetic enhancements.”

“You’d have to remove most of his skeleton and organs for that.” Bubby offers him a hand to get back up and he gladly takes it. The two quickly rushing to fret over Darnold, who modestly brushes off their concerns with. "I'm fine."

“Darnold, how did they find out you were trying to help us?”

“It was a set up from the start. When they brought me to this location I wasn’t told what was really happening. They probably knew that as soon as I realized who we were working on that I’d try to help you guys out. Didn’t think they’d know about our time in the Potion’s Department but I guess that’s what I get for assuming. Dickhead in the suit asked me a bunch of questions about you guys, what I knew and about that security guard you were with. Told him what I could to try and seem like I was on their side, but honestly it wasn’t like I knew much of what was really going on with all you guys to begin with.”

“What did you tell him Bubby?”

“Not a goddamn thing.”

He clasps the older man on the shoulder and receives a wicked grin in response. “You know what Coomer says?”

“Don’t fuck with the science team.”

He laughs. An honest to god, merry laugh. The guards relinquish their guns, knives, smoke grenades and tear gas. Once armoured up in their vests and armed to the teeth with as much as they could carry, the trio exchange a knowing look between themselves before all taking aim and mowing the string of guards down. Poetic justice. Darnold looks uncomfortable with the violence, not bringing himself to look at the carnage afterwards, but that doesn’t stop him from squaring his shoulders and reloading. When Gordon gives him a curious look he responds quickly, “They torture people here Gordon… Innocent people. I didn’t sign up for that shit.”

Good enough for him.

He was fine with, _they fucked with me and my family_. Cause that’s what they were. His family. And god help those poor souls who tried using them against him. Speaking of which. He has a friend to save and a bureaucrat to kill.

“Let’s get Coomer, find Tommy and get the hell out of here.” The two other scientists voice their approval and begin to march their way back into the facility. 

The pace is smaller than Gordon was expecting and with their current immunity, it didn’t take long for the inmates to be running the prison. On their way to tracking down Coomer they’d opened all the cells and watched as things on the security monitors divulged into absolute chaos. 

Darnold informs them that everyone being kept here was either a survivor of Black Mesa or somehow related to the incident. Some initially brought on as staff, as he’d been originally but many taken from their homes in a similar manner to the original three. Including spouses and family members to be used as leverage. Gordon ensuring as he goes through the list of names and cells that his ex and son are nowhere to be found. With how quickly Don was to threaten him and use a Coomer clone as a gambit, he's assured that if they had Joshua they'd have used him against the scientist at some point.

Perhaps being a terrible father had it's silver linings.

“Why are they so obsessed with him?” Darnold muttered, upon confirmation from Bubby that most of those taken in by force were many former security guards. Those who would have worked alongside Benrey during his various shifts.

“Because he’s an alien god.” Gordon answers simply. Like it’s the most obvious answer. Darnold looks at him and when he gives him a _‘no seriously’_ look in return he appears even more perplexed than before.

“The guy who installed the pyro update and made my computer a gaming pc… _Is a god?”_

“It’s a lot more believable when he’s trying to kill you.” Bubby interjects. Gordon points to him and nods. Darnold blinks but seems to accept it. Because what else is there? “Now which room are they holding Dr. Coomer?”

They get a general idea of where they think he’s being kept. Gordon leading the group to the lower levels of the facility, any obstacles torn or shot down. The badges they'd taken helping them get through a series of locked doors the higher the clearance gets. Gordon having to push down the onslaught of memories from their time at Black Mesa. Bubby explained as they traversed that they’d messed with his neural implants and injected him with some kind of sedative or drug that was interfering with his abilities. Darnold promptly asks, what abilities? To which Bubby casually rounds off his pyrokinesis, lower level of  telekinesis, superior intelligence and strength, along with his improved healing factor and smaller traits befitting one genetically engineered and grown in a tube rather than a womb. Like theoretically being able to turn into a car.

Darnold’s stunned silence amuses Gordon who adds, “You get used to this shit.”

“Do you really?”

**“No.”**

Coomer is being kept under. Everything from his heart rate and blood pressure to his brain waves all being monitored. Bubby begins shutting down the machines while Gordon and Darnold release him. Darnold carefully took out the various needles buried in his flesh and the tube that had been slid down his throat while Gordon handled the restraints. For a moment afterwards Coomer appears as if he’s simply sleeping. Mustache grown in, along with an impressive amount of stubble that was practically a shaggy beard. His wild fluffy hair even more unruly.

Reminding Gordon of his own long mess of dark locks. Which now that he thinks about it. He uses a bit of torn cloth from his pant leg to tie back his hair, his ponytail now a more impressive length. Some of his fringe remains in his eyes.

They wait a bit for him to come to though all of them are cautious of how long it’ll be before reinforcements and the military arrives. The sound of gunfire and explosions from upstairs has died down at any rate. The trio contemplating about how long it’ll take for him to wake up when Bubby huffs and leaning over the wider man, slaps him across the face with as resounding _smack_.

“Get up Harold! We don’t have time for this. We have to get home before the bread burns! THE BANANA BREAD HAROLD!!” Gordon and Darnold look on confused but amazingly enough. Coomer jolts up, hitting his forehead against Bubby’s which causes them to both recoil and hiss in pain. “Of course that’s what it takes to get you out of bed."

Coomer blinks slowly, clearly still coming off of the drugs. But upon seeing Bubby, his expression softens considerably and he settles back into the bed. “We’ll make another loaf in the morning.”

“DON’T GO BACK TO SLEEP!” Bubby shrieks and manages to flip the bed with Coomer on it. He grunts as he hits the floor and still groggy, gets up. Darnold and Gordon averting their eyes because. He’s naked. And more hairy and scarred then Gordon would have thought. He seems to realize his own state because he grabs the bedsheet and uses it like one would a towel. Though it trails behind him a bit ridiculously like he's some sort of eccentric runaway bride.

Bubby throws his arms around the heftier man in a hug. Clinging to him. Grumbling something unheard but wholly private to the man, who gladly accepts the embrace even if seemingly surprised by it. Large hand rubbing the other scientist’s back comfortingly. That same tender smile returning as his cheeks flushed. “I missed you too.”

“As much as this reunion warms my heart,” Darnold interrupts. Bubby pushes off of Coomer and nods, rearming himself with his stolen rifle. A knife passed into Coomer’s still bleary hands since he’s more averse to using guns. “We oughta be finding Tommy and then getting out of here as quickly as we can. I’m not about to die on government property. Last thing I want is for our bodies to be used in their next flavour of powerade.”

“They use bodies in their powerade?!”

Darnold shrugs towards Gordon, “Would you put it past them?”

“Not at all. Darnold’s right. Back on the elevator. If I know Tommy, he’ll be waiting for us in the lobby near the soda machine.” Oh god he could use a fucking soda right about now. The promise of sugary caffeine is enough to make him straighten his back and rush forward. If Sunkist is with him, Gordon looks forward to burying his face in their golden fur.

The things you miss while imprisoned.

But they should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Because once back on the main floor, which now seems to have been abandoned and in complete disarray, they run into the businessman and the captain. Who look rightfully furious and like they’ve been through hell.

They take cover when both start shooting in their direction. Whatever magic in place seemingly having run its course. Gordon shouting from behind cover once there’s a pause, “Good trick with the clone! But was killing Bubby really a good idea?”

“He’s nothing special! A dime a dozen!” He shouts back. Bubby mutters _‘dick’_ under his breath, earning a bit of a genuine laugh from Gordon.

“If you beg me for your life it’ll be taken into consideration!”

“If I get out of here I’m killing your son personally, Freeman!”

That does it.

Gordon rounds the corner, real bullets be damned and begins unloading his gun towards the likewise cowering pair. The captain catches one in the throat and upon realizing he’s lost his protection Don, slicked hair now coming loose and falling into his face, makes a break for it. Gordon’s stolen pistol clicks, empty. So he tosses it to the side and takes off running after him.

Blind to everything else around them and the protest of his limbs.

Before he can catch up to the man they filter into the next hallway, one of the lights in this one is damaged as it flickers above. Setting the mood. There’s a guard standing with his back to them and Don gives a triumphant shout. Grabbing the guard by the arm and moving to stand behind him. Keeping a body between him and Gordon who screeches to a half. Realizing too late that _holy shit_ he just threw away his gun and after everything, even that bit of physical strain had left him panting and dizzy. Weeks of poor nutrition, dehydration and lack of physical activity getting to him.

Instead of turning to face Gordon or even move to grab the firearm strapped to his thigh the guard looks to Don. And the relaxed drawl of a familiar voice is the most beautiful sound Gordon has ever heard.

“You got any credentials?”

Gordon smiles. The businessman looks appalled. Mouth hanging out. Hand still on Benrey’s bicep.  _ “What?” _

“Gonna need to see your passport.”

That seems to click it into place. The sheer unadulterated terror that overcomes the man’s suddenly pale complexion giving Gordon a sadistic swell of glee. Benrey doesn’t wait, in a flash the gun is taken from it's hostler. Pressed under the man’s jaw and fired. Blowing off his slimy head in a splatter of gore unfitting for a modest weapon. Painting the ceiling before his corpse staggers and collapses under it's own weight.

Benrey was showing off and Gordon is too elated to care.

He takes the few steps still separating them. Benrey shifting to look at him, expression unreadable. “Oh. Hey-” He hugs him. Leaning all his weight against the alien and giving a sob of relief into his shoulder. Benrey goes tense before awkwardly, unsure of himself, resting his hands gently on Gordon in the most odd places.

It’s the worst hug he’s ever had, and he couldn’t be happier.

When he pulls away Benrey’s got a crooked smile across his strange complexion. A hue not befitting a healthy human man of his presumed age. Likewise he’s dropped the brown eyes. Sclera a tinge of yellow, accompanied by glowing irises and slit pupils. The worst disguised eldritch abomination he’s ever seen and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  “Can I see your passport?”

Gordon barks a laugh and shoves him, “Good to see you too asshole.”

Benrey laughs quietly, not the wicked laughter Gordon expected of him. A hand wiping at his mouth almost shyly. As if he’s as bewildered and glad to see the scientist as he is to see the guard. You know. Despite them trying to kill each other the last time they were in the same room. There's so much to say.

“God. It’s so good to see you. I could fuckin kiss you man.” Gordon breaths, nearly collapsing when his head suddenly feels light. Benrey catches him, an arm slung over his shoulder as he supports his weight with ease.

“Why don’t you?”

Gordon pushes weakly at his face and laughs again, breathlessly this time. The other’s round the corner and there’s a variety of expressions upon spotting Benrey. Coomer looks delighted, Bubby relieved if a bit confused and Darnold like he’d seen a ghost.

Guess he’ll believe that whole alien thing now.

“Gordon you’re hurt!”

Oh. Shit. No. He wasn’t looking at Benrey. He was looking at Gordon’s side, where he’d been shot. His free hand presses to his abdomen and sure enough it comes back dark red with tinges of colourful paint.

“Huh?” He blurts out stupidly. Benrey’s hold on him becomes painful and his hitching of breath must clue him in because before he knows it he’s been set on the floor. Shirt pushed up. He tries to weakly bat Benrey’s hands away before everyone else is crowding in to see him. Bubby uttering about internal bleeding and damage to internal organs while Coomer thinks back to the last med station they’d seen, which he grimly states was quite a way back and likely emptied given the apparent riot they’d missed in the basement.

Benrey holds his face, looking deep into his eyes. Gordon smiles though it’s pitiful. He looks rightfully like a monster but for once he's not afraid.

_ Where the fuck do they even begin? _

Sorry I killed you? 

Sorry I forgot about our childhood?

Sorry my dickslip ruined everything?

“Gordon,” It’s strange hearing Benrey say his name, “Can I kiss you?”

He blinks. Startled. Strange even for Benrey. Piss poor timing to be having one of his little gay moments while Gordon's bleeding to death on the floor. Or perhaps that was just how he thought humans expressed affection and companionship. A lot to consider now that Gordon knows what he is. Well…. No one knew what he was really but they knew what he wasn’t.

Bubby asks him what the hell he’s on about, insisting ‘he needs help’. Darnold having a similar sentiment. Maybe it’s the blood loss or the adrenaline finally wearing off but Gordon closes his eyes and leans his head back against the floor. Whispering, “Yeah fuck it.  _ Why not.” _

And when Benrey kisses him it’s sloppy and awkward, especially given the angle but not a moment later he’s singing into Gordon’s mouth. Green and teal, to heal. So unexpected that Gordon begins to choke on the balls pushing down his throat. Benrey grabbing his jaw and hooking two fingers in his mouth to pry it open, painfully so, but continuing to sing that Sweet Voice onto and past his docile tongue. The scientist’s eyes closing, body relaxing as he drinks the colourful melody. Hand coming up to brace on one of Benrey’s arms.

He must interpret that as Gordon trying to pry him off because suddenly a tongue that’s too long and too slimy and too _prehensile_ is in his mouth and hitting his tonsils. He gags loudly and somebody pulls the alien off. Their arguing mixing together as the Sweet Voice gradually takes its toll. Benrey must have fed him some soothing blue as well because he’s relaxed. Feeling almost like he’s floating. Or maybe that's the aforementioned blood loss.

He sure hopes you can’t OD on this shit.

But for a blissful moment the pain’s gone. Boneless on the floor as his body seems to go numb. Eyelids growing progressively heavier and Benrey’s on him again. This time kissing the corner of his mouth proper. Lips moving across his filthy cheek.

Perhaps apologetic, though Gordon chastises himself for that thought.

Not realizing that he’s slurred out, “Dude did you seriously just try to deep throat me with your tongue?”

Until Benrey’s laughing at him, the loud obnoxious sound following him into the comforting embrace of a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being mean with these last two chapters lmao.  
> This is all I had prewritten, so the next updates will be slower.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. The Scum of the Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yes yes. You two hate each other. That's all fine and good but we're on a bit of a schedule here and I'm not going to die because you two can't act like bloody adults."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit the response to this fic has been so surprising and overwhelming in the best ways imaginable.  
> I was completely floored by the outpouring of support. Thank you so much to everyone whose left a review and/or kudos! It means the world to me and really made me stop and take my time with refining things a bit in this chapter. I'm excited to reach certain scenes later on and develop the story further, I hope everyone enjoys the ride!

From the brink of an untimely death, the young physicist rouses. Vision blurred as he squints through the oppressive darkness above. Met with a sheet of glittering stars usually lost to those living in light polluted cities, some part of him distantly wondering if each one was a sun contained in its own universe and if so, which one belonged to Benrey? Or was he the star?

Raised voices arguing amongst themselves must have woken him, seemingly dragged him back from the hands of fate. Gordon grunts in discomfort before abruptly yelping in pain as he shifts his position on the asphalt, aggravating his wounded side.

Benrey is on him in a moment. Cool hand on the back of his neck, lifting him slightly to sing more fruity Sweet Voice into his awaiting mouth. Till the soothing string of notes is lolling him back to sleep.  **Overflowing** . Rainbow trails spilling down his chin to join the rest of his colourful ensemble.

* * *

_ He's on a bench. On a beautiful summer day. _

_ Watching Joshua play in the jungle gym before taking off down the colourful plastic slides. Running and leaping with boundless energy and enthusiasm. Hitting the ground and rolling back up in such a way that has Gordon wincing as his own knees ache in phantom pain.  _

_ At some point, he isn’t sure how much time has passed, he hears a dog begin to bark in the distance though he initially thinks nothing of it. They are at a park after all, it's not out of the ordinary for folks to walk their dogs down the trails or let them off leash to run in the nearby field. So he merrily sips on a juicebox that tastes strangely of blue raspberry despite being apple. The absurdity lost on him as he instead follows his son as he scampers about in a sugar rushed frenzy. Hyped up on ice cream and donuts as visiting dad was always a special treat. _

_ Filled with toys, trips to the movies and various spoils. _

_ As if it made up for his absence for the rest of the year. _

_ The incessant barking continues. _

_ Growing closer. _

_ Gordon looks round to try and identify the dog in question but spots nothing out of the ordinary. Joshua and the other children along with accompanying adults all seem to just ignore it. But it nears. Closer. Still. Growing. As if barking right next to his ear. Too loud for comfort. There’s no dog in sight. _

_ He realizes that it's coming from above. _

_ When he looks to the sky there's a dog's face trapped within the radiant sun. Like that weird fucking kids show where they had screens on their stomachs. But instead of a baby, it's a retriever. _

_ "Sunkist?" He stares, amazed. Luckily his eyes aren't straining under what should be the harsh rays of the summer sun. Because obviously he knows now that none of it is real. When glancing back to his son, the park is empty. Abandoned. Weeds overgrown and once colourful structures now rusty beyond repair. A memory before the world stopped making sense, now bittersweet. Tainted by the man he'd become. _

_ "Gordon!" He startles. Stands. _

_ Tommy's on the playground. Elevated. Hands cupped around his mouth. He waves at the apparition dumbly. At a loss for the odd constructions built upon his subconscious. _

_ He shouts again.  _ **_Desperately_ ** _ , "Gordon!? Can you hear me?! Gordon!" _

* * *

He jolts awake due to a particular nasty bump in the road. Eyes flying open to stare up at the roof of a car and Coomer's concerned but friendly face. Round flushed cheeks pulled up in a warm smile. White hair looking silver in the lighting, "Hello Gordon!"

"Hey… Dr. Coomer." He can't help but offer a small fractured smile in return, the simple greeting breathed out quietly as the remains of sleep clung to his mind. Slowly allowing his eyes to adjust to the harsh light coming in through all angles. God. When was the last time he saw the sun.

"I hope you slept well given the circumstances, Gordon. You weren’t in the best of shape when we left the detention centre. It's a good thing Security Officer Benrey was here to keep you from dying!"

His expression immediately falls, _"Yeah…"_

Speaking of which. His feet are on someone else's lap. A raise of his head reveals the guard staring back at him in his usual disinterested manner. Hands resting on Gordon’s calves. "Man you look like shit." He muses aloud.

He drowsily rolls his eyes before sitting up at a languid pace, tight muscles protesting and screaming at him for exerting himself during their escape. A hand to his side revealing that the hole that was blown through him has been taken care of. Perhaps that’s why his stomach and intestines feel  **strange** . That or he ingested too much paint and Sweet Voice. 

A quick glance at his surroundings and he finds they’re huddled up in a minivan of all things. Before he can ask Darnold, whose driving, why they picked this vehicle the man's glancing over his shoulder with his own look of sharp relief. Appearing to be as tired as Gordon himself. "Ah you're awake! Gave us a bit of a fright there. How're you feeling?"

"Like I just got out of prison and was fucking shot," he groans. Shifting into the middle seat before leaning back against Coomer who is remarkably comfortable. Gordon silently appreciated the large hand on his back. It feels nice.

He can’t remember the last time he was held.

"And you look like it too." Bubby teases from the front passenger side. Turning to grin and cackle, with a snort of amusement from the alien to the physicist’s right.

_ Wait- _

Gordon checks behind them and frowns, no one in the trunk aside from a bunch of bloodsoaked gear. Suddenly weary of his quickly fading dream, "Where's Tommy?"

No one answers his question immediately, sending his anxiety flaring in concern. Coomer's voice lacking his upbeat tone when he finally answers. Gordon fucking hates when he does that. Brings up bad memories, "It was Benrey who was responsible for saving us Gordon. Tommy's gone."

**Gone?**

He looks to Benrey for answers.

"Tommy's alive." He's blunt and Gordon's thankful about it for once, "He's with that man."

"His dad?"

Benrey’s eyes flicker to the ceiling, "................................  _ sure… _ "

That isn't very comforting but it's something. Better than assuming the worst. He has no choice but to trust his word and hope for the best. Tommy’s a survivor. He’ll make it. He’s only half human, if anyone has a chance, it’s him.

"And before you ask, you've only been unconscious for a few hours. Soon as we got a car hotwired we've been making our way to the state border." Bubby's quick on the draw, likely impatient when it comes to the physicist's habit of interrogating everyone with a slew of questions. Gordon nods approvingly.

"Thought we'd lost you, Gordon…  _ There was just... so  _ **_much_ ** _ blood… _ " he glimpses Darnold's hands tightening briefly on the steering wheel before the potion maker’s shoulders go lax, "But uh. Ben-Benrey over there was able to put you back together! Never seen anything like it..."

"Guess continuing to go on living isn’t the worst price to pay for having him  **_shove_ ** his tongue down my throat," he elbows Benrey and shoots him a side eyed glare. The guard raises his own broad shoulders and ducks his head down like a scolded child.

"You weren't swallowing fast enough," he mutters, surprisingly held back. Adding quietly, "I wasn't about to let you die. Idiot."

Gordon sighs. Glare weakening considerably. Snuggling closer to Coomer who rubs his sore back. "... Yeah well... Thanks." He grumbles just as stubbornly as Benrey from under his breath while Coomer just chuckles.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're not dead." Bubby turns to stare at him from the front seat in the least subtle way possible. Like he was an angry father about to snap at him and pinch his ear for causing a ruckus. Gordon ignores the wide eyed glare along with the large hand on his back that suddenly grabs his shirt’s collar in warning. "After all that work we did to kill you and you look fine. If a little fuckin  **creepy** ."

Benrey blinks in honest surprise and glances at the fearsome claws adorning oddly slender hands before they return to resting on his lap. Fingers flexing unconsciously under Gordon’s invasive stare. The guard gazing out his window to watch the passing scenery fly by, the deep lines around his mouth tightening. "I didn't think I had to hide."

Gordon catches sight of his sharp teeth. A mouthful of impressive fangs. He stares and grins. Smacking the alien’s thigh. Mindful of not clipping his holster and accompanying gun, "You don't! Least not with us. I mean I've seen your skeleton, which means you were practically naked. And I’d rather you look like this then some of the other fucked up ways you looked before. Kinda cool I guess. Like you're an X Men or something."

"DC's better."

"Like hell it is! Batman maybe but Superman sucks."

"What's Superman?"

_ "Exactly." _

Benrey gives a fleeting tight lipped smile before his expression sombers. Gordon's content to leave it at that, thankfully easing some of the tension suffocating the car. He takes the time to wipe his new glasses clean on the inside of his shirt before leaning forward to try and get a better look at the open stretch of highway.

“Alright.” He steadies himself as the men in the front share a glance, “What’s the plan?”

“Getting out of the country is a start,” Darnold offers weakly, “But the Mexician and Canadian borders are closed. We’d have to steal a boat, aircraft would just be shot out of the sky. Or we could try seeking asylum with the Russian Embassy? Trade our secrets for safe passage and protection? Admittedly it’s a long shot but, we don’t have a lot of options.”

Before Gordon can ask for clarification Bubby cuts him off, "And Coomer and I talked about heading off separately. If we can get you all someplace safe or get you another car, then we can take the van. Led them on a chase."

_ "What?! _ No.  **No fucking way.** You don't split up the team. We're stronger and have a better chance if we all stick together!" His immediate anger must come through because Coomer is rubbing his back again. Stopping when the younger man shrugs him off.

"Well I have my neural implants and Coomer his cybernetics so it’s not like we can all just hold hands and make believe that everything’ll be okay. They used it against us once, they’ll do it again. If we're being tracked then at least we can lead them away from the rest of the team. Keep'em busy long enough for you all to get away and have a fighting chance."

"I convinced them not to leave until you woke up." Darnold adds. The ' _ so you could talk them out of it' _ apparent. That must have been the argument that woke him up earlier. Darnold seemingly convincing Coomer and Bubby to  _ ‘get in the fucking minivan-’. _

"That's  _ suicide _ ." Gordon looks at Coomer for answers. The boxer nodded grimly, a gentle smile never faltering in it's warmth. His throat tightens before he's narrowing his eyes and righting his shoulders. Grit teeth sending a shock of pain through his jaw as his nails bit painfully into his palms. He whipped around to Benrey whose breathing against the glass of the window to then draw in the fog before it fades. Strange symbols he recognizes from his shitty drawings as a kid.

"Benrey. Could you- Can you turn off any trackers and inhibitors in their enhancements? Give them full control?!"

Benrey blinks and blunders. "Wha-?"

"Can you give Bubby and Coomer full control of their enhancements, cybernetics, implants- all that shit? Remove all trackers and inhibitors." He repeats. Firmly this time. Benrey tilts his head and glances at the other two scientists who await his answer. A genuine look of anxious hope on Bubby’s pale features, while Coomer leans forward to look past Gordon to meet the alien’s illuminated gaze.

"I dunno…" he admits weakly with a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe? I've never tried anything like that before."

Gordon nods elbowing him again in what’s supposed to be uplifting support. Though in hindsight, might just be annoying or totally ineffective given he’s got on a bullet proof vest. "Well there's a first time for everything." As encouraging as he could muster. Though he doesn’t sound all that convincing.

Benrey appears as if he has more he wants to say, but his hesitation isn’t seen by Bubby, who cuts him off before he can even begin.

"I'm really not looking forward to having Benrey digging around in my brain." He adds but there's no malice to it. Coomer offers Benrey some real legitimate encouragement and praise which has him interlocking his fingers and looking down. Almost  _ bashfully _ . As if he’s unused to the positive attention and maybe he is. The look doesn’t suit him at all. Especially not with how the shadows play across his face and highlights the ethereal glow of his eyes.

Gordon goes back to it, trying to keep it moving. "We'll need someplace to stop and get our bearings. What do we have on hand? Any money?"

"Just a lot of guns, grenades and bullets." Bubby looks through the glove compartment but finds nothing of interest. Unrolling his window to toss everything out onto the road. Gordon bites his tongue to stop from chastising him when an empty plastic bottle tumbles after. Littering was the least of their concerns, and he knows two of the four men he’s with would be keen to jump on the chance to mock him. But like. Come on? He’s brought back out of his thoughts when Bubby offers, "We could hold up a gas station?"

Darnold doesn't sound keen but he does note, “We are running low on gas.”

"I'd rather not fuck with someone working a service job.."

“And I’d rather not be shot on site by the American military!” Bubby’s got him there. “Benrey cut their communications, but they’re going to realize what happened soon if they haven’t already. We don’t know how long we have until they catch up to us. So unless you’ve got any other bright ideas, we’re all ears.”

“Has he always been such a massive prick?” He glances at Coomer with a raised brow.

Bubby points at him and sneers, “Don’t. Answer that.”

Coomer laughs merrily, holding up his calloused hands while Bubby’s back to looking out the front windshield. Feet kicked up on the dash as he ran a hand through his thinning hair, despite his career and origin, having the same appeal as a washed up rockstar. Minus the eyeliner of course.

Coomer gives Gordon a sly, “He’s always been rather eccentric!”

“Says the man who started an underground fight club.” Bubby shoots back with practiced ease.

Gordon’s amused by their recounting of Mesa’s past. Various hijinks, mad science and experiments gone wrong. It’s. So  _ pleasant  _ to hear the two of them and Darnold talk about their work and the passion they had for what they did. He pretends for a moment that their lives aren’t in shambles. Occasionally adding his own fond memory and embarrassing tales of his times at MIT. Hearing Bubby genuinely laugh makes his smile grow fonder.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by a hand taking his own. Looking to Benrey, who is examining his right hand. Trailing obsidian claws carefully over his bloodstained palm and across bruised knuckles, down his wrist. Pushing back his sleeve till he finds the near seamless scar, enough to fool most into believing it’s a birthmark though they all knew better. He tried not to question how his hand was back. The implications were terrifying.

Benrey meets his eyes, expression often unreadable.

Though he looks angry. Annoyed?

“Tommy’s dad gave me a new one,” He explains. Benrey looks back at the underside of his arm. Trailing veins barely visible beneath his skin. It’s too intimate. Too gentle for a monster that had gotten it cut off in the first place. “Before we went to Chuck E’ Cheese for Tommy’s party.”

“You told me it wouldn’t grow back.”

“And it wouldn’t have, if Tommy’s dad didn’t make me a new one. Just like if you hadn’t made me swallow all those balls I’d have died with my guts spilling out on the floor. What was I supposed to do? Ask him to cut it off again!? **_Fuck off._ ** I couldn’t exactly hold my son with a gun for an arm.” He’s defensive cause what the fuck is Benrey on about? Gordon wrenches his arm back, scooting closer to Coomer though there’s not much space in the backseat. The conversation they’d been having died down as the pair had their strange moment. Benrey slapping his thigh as he’d done earlier. Making him wince as it sends a sting and ache of pain from his sore body.

One moment everything’s fine, the next he’s acting like a total brat.

Now he’s moping. Arms crossed and helmet pressed against his window.

All he’s missing is earbuds blasting Linkin Park and Evanescence.

He spits out bitterly, cause fuck it. Little bit of good faith has been murdered in its crib. He’s tired. He’s in so much lingering agony. He’s hungry and thirsty. He just wants to fucking go home and pretend that none of this is real. Go back in time and check his fly before wandering down that fucking goddamn hallway on his way to work. “I’m sure if you wanted to you could just cut it off again. Laugh as I scream and cry just like you did last time.”

The window he’s resting against cracks. Bright eyes flying open to stare at him with such intensity that Gordon wilts and swallows the bile that pushes up into his mouth. Coomer grabbed his shoulder and brought him that tiny bit closer. Pressing against the opposing door to get as much space between them and Benrey as was possible. Protective of the younger scientist it seems. Holding up his free hand to try and calm the furious beast stuck in the moving metal box with them.

“I’m sure what Gordon meant to say- Was that losing his hand was- ah-  **very traumatic!** And that he’d rather not question how or why he got his hand back.”

“I mean it was infected when I saw it,” Darnold sounds exceptionally nervous. Hands on the wheel steady but forearms subtly shaking. “If it weren’t for my potion, we probably would have had to amputate up to- oh I don’t know- the shoulder? Depends on how bad it was.”

Gordon shivers, burying his head under Coomer’s chin. Refusing to look at Benrey.

Though he can  _ feel  _ when he finally looks away.

A tense uncomfortable silence fills the car. No one dares to say a thing. Benrey’s presence is palpable. Sending each human’s heart racing until Bubby forces out, “Who wants some tunes?! I know I do.” And turns on the radio.

Finding a random local station playing the top forty. Gordon gradually relaxes again, but stays curled up against Coomer’s strong body. Under some cheerful pop song he overhears Benrey mumbling to himself. Catching only part of it. _ “....wasn’t my fault… I didn’t...” _

He wants to argue, but bites his tongue. Snapping his hand to his chest when Benrey goes for it again. And the next time he glances at him he’s propped up against his door. Dark shadows cast over his face from his helmet accenting the furrow of his sharp brows. Confused and upset if he had to guess but Benrey’s the one who started it. So fuck him.

Gordon’s too tired for this shit.

So much for trying to start fresh.

They’re pulled over on the side of the highway, thankfully devoid of too much traffic strangely enough, for a much needed washroom break and switching of drivers. Poor Darnold had been driving for hours and looked like he needed a break. Him and Gordon, along with a still sulking Benrey who's chosen to remain in the car rather than stretch his legs, all waiting for Bubby and Coomer to finish up.

It’s only then while they’re discussing what they should do that he remembers what he’d meant to ask before being sidetracked. Grabbing Darnold’s arm abruptly to the man’s surprise, “What did you mean when you said the borders were closed?”

Darnold looks at him as if he’s asked something asinine, “Don’t you watch the news?”

“I’ve been in prison for-”  _ Oh fuck _ , “Shit how fucking long were we in there?”

“By my calculations, three weeks? Maybe almost four? Though I don’t know how long you were in there before they brought me into the project.”

That’s a lot to swallow, but he shakes his head. Narrows his eyes, “Darnold, just tell me.”

He sighs, long and drawn out. Learning against the car and throwing his head back. “The Resonance Cascade… It wasn’t just in the facility Gordon. It spread. Globally.”

It’s like he’s been shot again. 

A straight massive blow to his stomach and like a hand tightening on his throat. Making his mouth dry and skin crawl with phantom insects. He’s going to be sick.

Slack jawed and wide eyed.  _ “Bullshit.” _

Darnold glares at him but it holds no heat. Just further exhaustion, “Why would I lie about that?”

“But I watched the news! When we got out. I’d watch TV or listen to the radio. They covered the incidents of Black Mesa, said an accident resulted in the deaths of several people but nothing about the aliens!”

He can feel Benrey looking at him. He ignores it, as he’s gotten quite good at doing at this point. He’s good at ignoring plenty of shit.

“They didn’t say it was alien.” Darnold explains dreadfully. Gordon feels his own sense of growing horror, “Made it out to be some type of terrorist attack. Tied it together with the incident at Black Mesa. Any discussion of classified portal technology or alien activity was absent in the media. Blamed it on an anarchist group. Which I’m sure we’ve all been made an official part of.”

“How many people died?” He’s scared of knowing. Darnold shakes his head and shrugs.

“Wouldn’t believe any official death count they give. But word among the staff was that entire towns and rural communities were wiped out before the military and secret service arrived. They had it maintained and secured soon enough it seems... I initially accepted the offer to the detention centre, because I was interested in the possibility of working with alien remains.”

He’s already making sense of it all. Frowning deeply. Hands going to pull painfully at his greasy hair. “They fucked with my tv. With  _ everything _ . Even the newspaper-” That explained why the journalists were so insistent but only pushed for a certain narrative. Why they seemed to be satisfied with his commanding ‘no’ rather than hounding him mercilessly for the type of government secret of a scandal the Black Mesa incident should have become. The type of shit that was a field day with the crazy conspiracy folks, who in hindsight should have been the one’s reaching out to him. He’d been content to hide in his apartment. Often drinking himself to sleep and avoiding interaction with his neighbours who rarely bothered to say little more than a polite hello in the elevator or in the hall.

Too busy processing his trauma and failing to cope to notice everything happening around him. So many things that now stand out. Seemed out of place or put there deliberately.

The call with his mother. 

Gordon slams his fist into the car roof. Hanging his head. Gritting his teeth. His mother rarely ever called unless she wanted something. Upon reevaluation, the quiet sigh that had left her lips when he’d asked about Benrey. Had it been an admission of guilt when he’d walked right into their trap? Was she offered money? A new house? Was she held at gunpoint and that’s why she was so aggressive in her speech? Of course she ranted at him despite his uncertain return from Mesa, if she was acting natural she’d fall back to an old pattern of bitching at him relentlessly rather than showing uncharacteristic concern. 

Wearing him down… Letting him get distracted. The old bitch was as manipulative as ever it seemed. Of course he’d let down his guard.

Why wouldn’t they have tapped into his phone?

His attempt to reach Tommy, they’d been at his door soon after. They had enough to bring him in. Tie him back to Benrey and their childhood.

Darnold places a hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes only to spot Benrey within the vehicle staring back at him. Turning to the potion maker to state blankly, “My mom was in on it.”

Darnold’s shock is blatant. Left speechless before getting a hold of himself with a pitiful look of sympathy. Awkwardly standing this close to Gordon, neither knowing what to say or do. Merely looking at each other helplessly. Lost and desperate for answers that neither man has. Benrey’s window cracks further. Like a twisted spiderweb carved into the sheet of glass. Distorting his image.

Gordon doesn’t give him the attention he wants. Focusing on Darnold who seems to have missed the outburst entirely.

“I’m. I’m so sorry Gordon.” He rubs his arm in an attempt to comfort him, but it’s clear he’s as unused to this as Gordon is. Still. He truly appreciates the effort and without much thought hugs the man. He stiffens initially but quickly relaxes and returns it. Holding him tight in return.

It’s what they both need it seems.

A voice then crudely startles them apart, “Save it for prom! We gotta get a move on.”

Bubby has a point and is already passing them to round the car and take the driver’s seat. Coomer’s still wearing a bedsheet but with Bubby’s help has turned it into a makeshift toga. So that’s nice.

Gordon and Darnold take the backseat as Coomer slips in next to Bubby, switching through stations but modestly lowering the volume so the two can carry on their conversation in the back.

“Was there anything else? How has everyone been dealing with it?”

“There were memorials for the deceased of course, and the usual coverups. Any mention of it online and especially attempts to prove the existence of aliens is taken down immediately and people that try too hard are well.” His expression darkens. “Taken care of.” Adding quietly, “I just wanted to make potions... _ fly kites.” _

“... But life goes on. Once I was in the detention facility, it’s like Black Mesa. You don’t really hear much of what goes on outside. Restriction of information, it being classified and all that.”

He nods, looking to the senior scientists, “Did you guys know about the Resonance Cascade going beyond the facility? They were censoring and faking everything I saw after we got out. Monitoring and testing me like I was some sort of fucking labrat. Even used my own mother against me to learn more about Benrey. Anything like that happen to you?”

Coomer hums loudly while Bubby taps the steering wheel in thought. 

“No, we knew about that. That’s why we were lying low. Waiting for the possibility that they would come to reclaim their property.” Bubby’s word choice has Gordon wincing but he keeps his commentary to himself. “I’m surprised they didn’t activate our bombs all things considered.”

**_“Bombs?!”_ ** Darnold and him screech almost in unison.

Coomer nods and pounds a fist to his chest, “Back in the day it was standard procedure!”

“Pretty sure it still is-”

“When they replaced my heart they made an additional modification you see, to ensure that if I was ever compromised that my cybernetic enhancements would never fall into the wrong hands. If they really wanted to they could set it off at any moment and my entire diaphragm would just EXPLODE!"

“It’s a  **failsafe** ,” Bubby corrects harshly, “To keep us from falling out of line and becoming too  _ ambitious _ . After all the money the government has put into our development, they want to have complete and total control. So we’re all made with a kill switch. His is in his chest, but like my neural implants, mine was placed in my head. So there’s no way to remove it without destroying my brain.”

“WHY ARE YOU DRIVING THEN?!”

“They haven’t triggered it yet!” Bubby shouts back, turning his eyes off the road and swerving before Coomer helps him with the wheel. Keeping him from crashing or drifting into the ditch as he points a finger at Gordan accusingly, “This is another reason why we wanted to leave.”

“I did tell you back at Black Mesa that Bubby could explode, Gordon.” Coomer also looks off the road but this time Bubby turns back and straightens them out. Going back to driving. Gordon’s heart can’t handle this. “Did you forget?”

“Guess it just, slipped my mind.” He feels light headed. Darnold’s holding his right hand.

“Why haven’t they triggered it yet?”

Bubby scowls and shifts in the driver’s seat uncomfortably,  _ “I don’t know. _ As a last resort, perhaps they’re still hoping to catch us all alive. They want Benrey right? We’re probably of better use to them in one piece that splattered all over the inside of this car.”

Speaking of which... 

Darnold’s to his left.

Benrey’s interlocked their fingers and he allows it. Whatever. But surprisingly he speaks up, breaking his last couple hours of silence, “I can take care of it.”

Bubby doesn’t look so sure but Coomer cheers, “That’s the spirit Bobber! Our lives rest in your capable hands.”

“Actually-” Gordon starts and already Bubby is glaring at him in the rearview mirror. Darnold making an uneasy sound to his left. He trails off. Cause.  _ Yeah _ . They’ve had enough and he should really learn his lesson. Mumbling, “You know what nevermind.”

Benrey accepts it and continues to hold his hand.

Gordon is happy to let Darnold rest his head on his shoulder. Allowing the potion maker to try and catch some rest after everything he’d been through. Wincing when Benrey’s grip tightens.

Still dressed in his rainbow splattered prison clothes that make him look like some sort of asylum escapee, long hair tied back and gun in the waistband of his pants, he shuffles into the gas station with the confidence of a man that had seen hell and lived to tell the tale. Even despite the harsh beating of his frantic heart.

The clock at least lets him know that it's almost five in the morning. The guy on shift looked ready to punch out and go home. Flipping idly through a magazine when Gordon approaches the register. Thankfully no one else is present, making this a whole lot easier and better for his rampant anxiety. Initially the employee offers a quiet, "Good morning." Like he's practiced and repeated a dozen times, before he glances up and sees the state of the scientist.

Gordon holds up the gun to show he has it but doesn't point it at him. Practicing good gun safety by even keeping his finger off the trigger. "Hey hey hey! It's okay! I'm not gonna shoot you! I'm so sorry to do this man but I'm kind of out of options. Just give me whatever’s in the register and let us take some food and we'll leave. No one has to get hurt. We just need supplies.”

The kid, who must be around his late teens or early twenties, just blinks and looks at the security camera stationed behind him as if it holds the answers. Gordon shoots it without even really thinking. A startled shout from the poor cashier followed by frantic button pushing before the register pops open. Hands up above his head and eyes impressively wide. "I don't want any trouble man."

"I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

Kid doesn't seem convinced, eyes flicking about and raised arms visibly shaking when the others filter in to start grabbing what they could. Gordon shoves the contents of the register into a plastic bag before starting to grab food and anything he thinks will be useful or worth having. Staying to watch the cashier so he doesn't do anything stupid while Darnold fills up the tank and the others set about to rob the place of everything they can possibly carry and cram into the van. Benrey just meanders about the drinks, often getting in the way of the others who grab tons of water and soda to hopefully last them the long journey they have ahead of them. The alien cracking open and chugging a can of Monster, dropping it to the floor like a savage, before browsing the magazine stack.

Like he thought this was an actual road trip and not a fight for their lives.

"Listen. When the feds show up. Just be honest with them and you should be fine."

The kid nods. Glancing between Gordon and Benrey. Benrey who still looks inhuman. Now shoving packs of gum into his pockets. "I mean whatever you gotta do right?" He offers nervously. Gordon nods and apologizes again.

"Don't run. Just call the police when we leave and you should be okay." He pauses. Gives it a second thought. "Actually- You know what? Don't say anything about how he looks. Just. Just to be safe."

"Are you one of those aliens?"

"No?" Gordon frowns as Benrey wanders over to them, visibly making the poor employee more frightful. As pale as a sheet as their eyes lock. Whatever’s happening interrupted by Darnold shouting from outside.

"We’re good to go!".

"What aliens?" He presses. The kid startles, eyes the gun and then Benrey. Swallowing thickly. As if he can’t decide which is worse.

"Like the cornfields?" He appears to have an epiphany, "Are you vampires?! You're a thrall and he’s your master?"

Gordon’s right hand tightens on the gun where it hangs heavily at his side. Exchanging a look with Benrey who simply raises a brow expectantly. Hints of amusement caught in the corners of his eyes. The horn is honked and Gordon flusters. "Sorry again dude."

He takes Benrey by the arm and guides him out back towards the car, pausing as Bubby and Coomer finish sorting everything they'd shoved into the back. Making sure there’s room for everyone, "Are you.  _ Did you make yourself taller?" _

He's looking up at the guard for a change and realizes he's done so since finding him in the prison. Benrey looks down at him in turn, "Huh? What?  **No…** ” He snorts and Benrey lets another tentative smile slip. 

They all get squeezed into the vehicle, having to move legs uncomfortably over their impressive stockpile. The best a convenience store had to offer, which wasn’t exactly  _ ideal  _ but beggars can’t be choosers. He’d survived days on just spite and soda alone. So he’s glad for the variety. You work with what you’ve got. 

Bubby lights a cigarette while Coomer takes a long gulp of a nice cool bottle of water. Bubby and Coomer had switched seats so it’s the boxer who gets them rolling and not a moment later the others are pulling out stolen food and drink. Gordon helping himself to a redbull along with a ham and cheese prepackaged sandwich. Benrey blowing bright pink bubbles as he begins on his gum.

  
  


They pass by a couple incidental towns before pulling off into the next motel they see, but only when their situation on gas is looking bleak once again. They park in a way that poorly hides the van and have to get Benrey to rent the room for them since he's the least inconspicuous for once. Though Gordon has to remind him to change his eyes before he walks into the main lobby.

It's tense, everyone else holding his armour and gun holster on his behalf, though he'd stubbornly refused to take off the helmet. 

It takes a bit but soon enough he rounds the corner with their room key and they're quick to stash their stolen goods before anyone can stop and question what they’re doing. Admittedly it looks shady as shit. Since it was stolen from the prison’s parking lot they’ll need to deal with the van in the hopes of throwing off their pursuers, prolong their discovery just a bit longer. Assuming the satellites hadn’t already been following them this entire time. Awaiting an airstrike or orbital cannon.

The room itself is cheap. Outdated decor and a carpet that has seen better days. Old large boxset on a cabinet with cable and maybe satellite if they're lucky. Two queen sized mattresses means they'd have to share but the sight of a real bed makes Gordon feel a light fluttering in his chest as he drops the last bag of stolen junk food and collapses with an orgasmic bounce. The springs groan and squeak under his weight, it's lumpy in places and it's sheer  _ heaven _ . Burrowing his face in a pillow is a welcome relief as the fabric scratches on his shaggy beard.

The soreness and ache of his battered and beaten body seemingly lighting up and flaring as soon as he stills. He whines loudly. Rolling onto his back and kicking off his shitty prison issued slippers to let his swollen feet breath. Stretching his toes and rolling his ankles with a satisfying  _ crack _ .

Darnold has the same idea. Stripping off his splattered dress shirt to reveal a white tank top and the rather impressive arms he's had hidden underneath. Rolling his stiff shoulders after cracking his neck.

Bubby washes his face in the sink as Coomer awes at his appearance in the mirror. Running a hand through his wild mane of overgrown hair.

Benrey chews his gum loudly, open mouthed. When it seems to lose its flavor he sticks it under the bedside table before beginning on a new piece and looking through drawers. He finds the Holy Bible. Looking at it in confusion before flipping through it. Shooting a glance at Gordon as if to ask  _ 'why?' _ He shrugs. Honestly he's never questioned it. He's been atheist since high school. Parents only really practicing on Christmas and Easter or when it was convenient. Benrey flips through it again, this time his still brown eyes flickering back and forth as if he was reading it. Gordon watched curiously as he got to the end and shut it. Looking more befuddled. He returned it to the drawer he found it in and catching Gordon staring at him raises both his brows, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

He's deadpan. Even for Benrey that seemed half assed. Blinking slowly. He turned to Darnold who’s helping himself to a bottle of water, "Can you grab me a twinkie?"

He finds a package of the yellow cakes and tosses it at Gordon who fumbles the catch but eagerly rips it open. He can practically smell the chemicals but his taste buds are overjoyed by the sugary and soft treat. Frosting a needed high that's practically overwhelming.

Thinking about it his teeth are disgusting. Guess they didn’t care if he got cavities so long as he could still talk. The lot of them were all in desperate need of a shower and grooming.

Priorities.

"We have to get rid of the van." It's obvious but he still says it. Bubby grunts in confirmation. 

"Coomer and I should take care of it."

"We're not splitting up." It's not a debate.

Bubby scowls at him. Straightens and rights his glasses. His aren't new like Gordon's but they aren't cracked either. "We wouldn't run off and get ourselves killed, Gordon. Benrey said he could help with my implants. That's a better option than having my head just explode when I least suspect it. Be nice to talk about Black Mesa secrets without worrying that it'll kill me."

"You didn't set that soldier on fire and I haven't seen Coomer show off his cybernetics. So I’m assuming they must've nerfed you two back in the prison."

"Detention center." Darnold corrects him.

Bubby takes a seat on the bed next to Gordon's. Hand to his bald head for emphasis over where they might have stuck a needle into his scalp, "They certainly fucked my shit up."

That reminds him.

"Are there any more Coomer clones we should be worried about?" Coomer sits next to Bubby, making the taller man bounce as he drops his heavy weight onto the mattress. Shaking his head.

"I don't believe so, Gordon? I feel complete. Whole. If anything's missing I haven’t noticed?”

"The decoy that was killed was probably just rushed through incubation and programming. Looked like shit and wasn't allowed to speak so obviously they knew we'd catch on. Pretty obvious if you ask me."

"Straight outta da tube." Benrey tries to contribute.

"Programming?" Gordon doesn't let him derail the conversation. Bubby's always happy to share his wealth of knowledge when able, showing off his brilliant intellect.

"They'd either be transplanted with the most recent collection of Dr. Coomer's memories. Or have false ones implanted."

"That's fucking terrifying."

Bubby starts eating the second twinkie that Gordon had left on the bedside table between them. Talking with his mouth full, "It's ok you're not a clone." He swallows and licks away the frosting on his lips, "We checked."

_ "What!?  _ When?"

"While you were asleep. Once after the Resonance Cascade and then when we were trying to steal a car!" Coomer chimes in. Bubby nods. He hears Darnold make a sound of 'oh that's what they were doing'.

"Hard to resist the urge to cut off that matted out mane you've got there."

"At least I have hair," he shoots back. Bubby sputtering as Coomer and Benrey chuckle. He flips his hair for added effect and Bubby blows him off. Though back on a more serious note, "How do you identify a clone?"

"No belly button. Same with the one's like me," Bubby lifts his shirt and sure enough. No belly button. It's. Weird. He settles his shirt down. "Though it can be solved with some cosmetic surgery. Clones have different fingerprints than the originals. Missing scars, moles or birthmarks. Differences in the voice if the vocal cords aren't exact. And every one I know of, has a mark on the nape of their neck where their bomb is located. Along with some sort of identifying tag behind their ear."

Bubby takes a moment to finish his drink before shooting a surprisingly vulnerable look at the relatively quiet guard. "You think you can switch off any trackers in our implants now?"

Benrey glances at Gordon who nods. Clawed hands rubbing his thighs. "I mean. I can try? You might die though."

"Never stopped us before. It's that or the possibility that they just blow my fucking head off at some point."

"Is it safe? Should we be this clo-" Gordon trails off as Benrey stands and stabs two fingers into Bubby's eyes without question. Glasses held safely in his free hand. Moving faster than any of them could have followed.

Bubby screams despite himself. The others looking on in stunned horror. Gordon having the sense to rush to put his hand on Coomer's chest, use his weak arm as a barrier, to hold him back. Only for a rough hand on his face to shove him back into the vile carpet as Benrey then stabs his arm through the boxer's chest just as he stands. Blood splattering to the floor between his legs.

Darnold runs to Bubby and when he looks up his eyes are still somehow intact. Though there's streams of furious red coating his wrinkled cheeks. Dripping from his chin.

Coomer catches himself on the bedside table. Hand gripping his chest where amazingly enough his skin is neither torn nor stained in blood. Even as it dyes the tacky carpet at his feet a repulsive hue. Gordon supports him regardless. Looking over his back to check. Glad to see that he's alright if a little shaken.

When he faces Benrey he's got his bloodied fingers to his mouth. One brow raised. Red coating his teeth as he makes a helpful observation, "You look like you just shit your pants."

_"Bastard-"_ Bubby rubs his eyes and cleans his face before putting his glasses back on when they're held out by the guard. He's reasonably miffed. Coomer on the other hand forces a strained laugh and wipes his brow of sweat while Bubby attempts to shake it off, "Could have given us a warning!"

"Eh." He's chewing on a bloodied finger. Gordon shivering at the sight. 

Darnold looks sick.

  
  
  


"You have to promise me you're coming back," he's stern with Coomer. Hand pressed to the door to keep the old pair of scientists at bay for just a few more minutes. Coomer blinks his lively eyes in surprise as he nods without any sense of hesitation. Gordon doesn't budge. Glaring at him.

Coomer chuckles, "I promise."

Gordon isn't so sure and it must show on his face because the boxer offers a raised pinkie. "Cross my heart." The physicist can't help but laugh in turn despite his overwhelming tension and sense of impending dread. Completing the pinkie promise with his own. But adding forcefully, "Don't die."

"We can take care of ourselves Gordon."

He shoots Bubby a look but it's devoid of any anger or resentment. In truth he’s just worried and paranoid when it comes to their safety. He's used to the other’s shit at this point and finds it more endearing than he probably should. "If you died I'd never forgive myself."

Bubby nods in shared sentiment after recomposing himself after that abrupt bombshell. Offering in return, "Don't do anything stupid."

"Now I can't promise that."

That eases some of the strain. 

Gordon locks the door behind them. Leaning his back against it as he lets out a long winded sigh.

Coomer in a bedsheet toga isn't subtle but they're better suited to the task, so long as their enhancements don’t become their achilles heel once again. Honestly Gordon isn’t so sure. But he’s in no shape to run off and he knows Darnold doesn’t have the stomach for senseless violence if they need to do something unethical out of a desperate need for survival. And Benrey is a wild card that Gordon still can’t rightly bring himself to really trust not to fuck it all up. Given everything.

Gordon grabs himself a juice, fruit punch and sits on the edge of the bed that’s been designated as his by virtue of him falling into it the first chance he got. Darnold watches Coomer and Bubby from the window, peeking out of the curtain before drawing it back when they must leave his field of view.

“Is it cool if I shower first?” Darnold’s already making his way to the washroom. He’s just trying to be polite. Gordon nods.

“Go for it man.”

The door closes with a gentle slam, giving Darnold his privacy and finally leaving him alone with Benrey. Whose busy sulking on the other bed. Heavy boots to the floor. Twisting an empty foil wrapper in his hands.

He's snacking on another piece of gum. This one a vile green. The smacking of his lips and constant chewing progressively riling Gordon up. Grating on his already fried nerves. Like a nail scratching along his mind until it’s shredded to pieces. He reorganizes their supplies to distract himself. Keep busy but it doesn’t last very long as he loses the patience for it quickly.

He hears the shower turn on and after checking out the window to ensure the coast looks clear, Gordon glances at Benrey. Whose back to staring at him.

His initial response is to bark **_'what?!'_ ** at him. Instead he utilizes more self control than that and swallows the rest of his drink. Setting aside the empty bottle. He returns to the bed and tries to collect his raging thoughts. Now that there's the time and quiet needed to think. 

Now that they’re alone.

He’s just delaying the inevitable.

Making up excuses and trying lazily to keep himself busy and distracted.

The words are lodged painfully in his throat. The physicist swallows thickly and falls back onto the sheets. Palms pressed against the back of his eyelids. Seeing shades of colour bounce throughout the encompassing black. "What the fuck are you even doing here Benrey?"

The alien doesn't respond but Gordon hears a bubble pop. It's so fucking annoying. Like a lot of the things Benrey did. Gordon huffs. Turning his head to look at the guard. Awfully convenient the prison had guards with a similar uniform. It'd be easy for Benrey to blend in as he had with the simple switch of clothes. Only thing really off is the Black Mesa helmet he'd carried over. The coincidence of it all makes Gordon want to scream. Don’s words circulating in his head like pieces to a puzzle without the box. Blindly stumbling and trying to mash things together in a way that felt plausible but never satisfying.

Turning his eyes to the ceiling. He focuses on the cracks and unsettling series of stains as he forces it out. Ripping it off in one swell swoop.

_ "I'm sorry." _

The chewing stops. The shower and Darnold's muffled singing the only sound for a moment. Followed abruptly by one of their neighbors shouting in what Gordon thinks is Spanish or Italian.

"For what?" Benrey's tone hasn't changed. Maybe it's stupid that Gordon had wished it would.

Gordon breaths in through his nose harshly. In truth? For a lot of things. "For forgetting our childhood and calling you a liar." It's a start.

The bed bounces as Benrey is suddenly on him. Hands slamming down next to his head and face much too close to his for comfort. Balking and going still as the other's knees trap his thighs. Effectively caging him in. Benrey's eyes overwhelmed his vision. Something about them triggering a  _ primal  _ fear in the man, causing his head to ache and heart to race. He braces his hands on the other’s chest and gives a weak push but the alien doesn't so much as budge. Instead his breath ghosts over Gordon's face. Smelling artificially sweet. His voice quiet as he asks. "You remember?"

Their noses bump clumsily.

Gordon feels so small under him. Weak. Pathetic.  **Insignificant** . A glance at his teeth reminding him that Benrey could tear out his throat and crush his skull into dust with his bare hands. Squeeze him in an oversized palm till he bursts or crush him under heel, all without any strain. Set him and the bed on fire like his final funeral pyre.

"No," he's honest. The look of profound hurt on Benrey's face is the same as their final confrontation. One of confusion or despair tinged with resentment and frustration. Gordon thinks. Acts before he can question it. Resting his good hand on Benrey's face. Giving what he hopes is an earnest apology in the form of his brilliant green eyes. Trying to convey his sincerity. His regret. His own confusion and self hatred. "But I know we were close."

Benrey supports himself on one hand. The other coming up to rest against Gordon's where it cradles his cheek. Brows furrowing as Gordon continues. "Humans… We don't have great memories. Especially not when we're kids." Made worse by trauma and repression but he doesn't add that. "I'm sorry I forgot and that when you tried to tell me… I thought you were lying."

Benrey nuzzles into his palm. Strange eyes opening to glimpse at him passively. Lips curling in a sneer. "You were always a fuckin chicken shit Freeman." But then his tone and his expression softens considerably. "Why… _ Why did you leave?" _

"As a kid I didn't have a choice."

Benrey appears increasingly frustrated. Lips parting before his discoloured tongue is wetting them. Seeming to muse over his thoughts, think about what he says before saying it for once. But before he can figure it out, a polite cough jostles the pair back to their senses and the present at hand. Heads whipping to where Darnold is redressed and standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Throat cleared and eyes averted. "Shower's clear."

Gordon flushes at what it must look like. Benrey kneeling over him and basically pinning him to the bed. He pushes the guard off and Benrey lets him this time. Sitting up stiffly on the edge of the mattress as Gordon leaps clumsily to his feet. Thanking the potion maker. Benrey grabs his hand and he hesitates. Giving him an honest smile and a promise, "We'll talk about it later okay?"

Benrey lets him go but crosses his arms and scowls like a petulant child. Gordon shakes his head and is glad to be in the bathroom alone once the door is closed. Chuckling at the mental image of Benrey clawing at the wood like a needy cat.

The hot water feels amazing on his bared skin. Easing some of the pent up tension he's had. Cheap motel products a god send as he massages shampoo and conditioner into his scalp. Tangles and knots frustratingly caught in his hair but gradually coming undone as he uses his fingers as a comb. The bodywash a sharp floral scent he happily slathers over his aching body. Taking into account all the colourful bruises blossoming over his flesh and scars scattering across his now paler complexion.

There's a deep purple flourish across his abdomen where he'd been shot, with a poor attempt at a twist he strains to catch a glimpse of it mirrored on his back where the bullet had exited. But other than that, you'd never be able to tell. The Sweet Voice was no fuckin joke. Though he's disappointed to see the mark encircling his right forearm doesn't look any better.

Maybe it's a concentrated effect or needs Benrey's intent?

Gordon doesn't linger in the simple pleasures of a hot shower even if selfishly he really wants to.

Luckily there's plenty of towels. One resting on his shoulders as he puts his pants back on and nothing else. Benrey is where he left him while Darnold is in the opposite bed. Leaning against the headboard. He's turned on the old tv and Gordon's almost so distracted he could have missed how the guard's gaze raked over him and hovered on the wound on his side before locking onto his arm.

The news segment is covering an explosion at the prison they'd abandoned. Saying it was some kind of private medical center. Showing false images of what it'd supposedly looked like. The courtyard where they'd been set for execution instead covered in flowers and iron benches. Twisting Gordon's stomach. He sits next to Benrey but focuses on the broadcast.

Feeling the blood leave his face when photos of the scientists all come on screen. Taken from their Black Mesa IDs. The anchor calls them terrorists who are suspected of being behind a similar accident in New Mexico where they previously worked at the Black Mesa research facility. Advising folks not to approach the dangerous madmen and to instead call the authorities with any information that could lead to their immediate arrest.

They continue to show the gas station they'd robbed and Gordon has to rush to the bathroom when they reveal a bloodied scene of the interior they'd left only hours prior. Stating that the part timer who was only nineteen and working towards saving up his tuition, had been shot and killed when confronted by the leader. Gordon Freeman. He can hear the anchor as she details and narrates the security footage before he shot and destroyed the camera. He cries out from the bathroom to  _ ‘fucking turn it off!’  _ when they start interviewing the guy's mom. Her wailing pleas were cut off and Darnold's apology drowned out as Gordon buried his head in the toilet bowl and gagged violently before his lunch was pushed up. 

  
  


Tears and snot are pouring down his face in a disgusting display as bile burned his throat. Sobbing even as Darnold sat next to him on the floor of the modest bathroom. Rubbing his back and holding his hair, before offering him a toothbrush and toothpaste once it seemed he was done with the whole horrid affair, they're even still in the box. Despite being from the robbery he nabs them. Brushing his teeth after gargling some water. He settles with an iced tea as they return to the bedroom. Having a better grasp on himself after losing it.

Benrey smirks, "Bro  **cringe** ."

It's teasing despite his usual monotone and Gordon's temper nearly breaks. He bites down on his tongue to keep from shrieking at the guard to fucking shut up. The sharp sting kept him grounded. Darnold instead chastises Benrey for his insensitivity to which Benrey just grumbles mockingly and turns away.

Gordon's frustrated huffing earns him a squeeze on the shoulder from Darnold who after the younger man gestures for him to get it over with, tentatively switches the tv back on.

A man who looks shockingly like Don, only blond, stares back at them and out of the corner of his eye he notices even Benrey perks up in surprise. He's giving an interview on the seriousness of the matter concerning the escaped scientists. Stapled smile tight at the edges.

Gordon glances anxiously at the alien who instead of meeting his eyes is staring with intent at the screen. Eyes narrowed and fangs bared.

"And once again that's Mr. Heft. Thanks for speaking with us tonight in the midst of this tragedy, I know many folks are anxious to know more. Here's hoping you catch these guys before they can do any more damage. And if you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Gordon Freeman and his conspirators, please-"

Gordon speaks over the anchor. "So I guess going to the press is out of the question."

"You know they control the media."

"And the flow of information. Anything online would probably just be censored and deleted like you said before."

The potion maker nods in regretful agreement. They switch through channels. Most running their story and fatal robbery but they settle on a rerun of Spongebob and Gordon bites back a sarcastic chuckle when Benrey gets attentive. Laying on the bed on his front with his feet kicking in the air like some kid home right after school. It’s easy to forget what he is.

He puts on a great act.

At some point Darnold nods off. Lightly snoring as he rests above the sheets. Gordon feels a similar exhaustion dragging down his bruised eyelids. Despite hoping to wait up for Bubby and Coomer.

"Benrey?" The bed dips as he moves to lay next to Gordon. The two looking back at each other in the soft warm light of the bedside lamp. Softening the harsh lines of Benrey's face. "You don't sleep right?"

"I don't  _ need _ to."

Gordon snorts and rolling to his side tucks the pillow in closer to get more comfortable. Leaving his back to the alien. "Then stay awake and please. Keep us safe. Wake us up if the other's get back or you think the guys trying to kill us have caught up."

"... Okay…"

"I'm trusting you Benrey." He's allowed his eyes to close. Speech starting to slur and drift off. "So. Please don't leave…. We need… you…"

Gordon's briefly startled awake when a body presses against his back, a thick arm laid over his waist. He grumbles turning slightly to push at Benrey's shoulder. Demanding he at least take off his body armor and gun holster. The vigor in which he rips off his equipment has the exhausted man's face flushing red.

Bouncing slightly with an embarrassingly loud creak as Benrey returns to hold him from behind. Daring enough to tangle their legs and brush his hand over the scientist’s exposed abdomen. Cool to the touch, making him shiver before he’s settling his palm over the healed bullet wound.

Gordon tells himself this is alright.  **_This is fine._ ** This is normal. Despite everything left unsaid. Attempted murders and betrayals. Secrets and lies. Immaturity and misunderstandings always widening the gulf between them. Everything the guard is and isn't. Benrey was capable of digging into his flesh to rip out his intestines and lower organs if he wanted to. Instead he’s gentle. Not a stray scratch or painful pinch. Careful when he wants to be apparently.

While Gordon’s touch starved and desperate for affection. For being wanted and cared for after all this time. Allowing himself to be swayed by the heart he can feel pounding against his back. Benrey's beating fast in excitement. A solid and oddly comforting weight curled around him. Their breathing helps to ease him back towards rest.

"Gordon," he whispers into his ear. Sending goosebumps along his neck. He hums to show he’s listening, if only partly. "If anyone's going to kill you it's going to be me."

He takes in a sharp breath and nods in acknowledgement before letting out a shuddering sigh.

Benrey cuddles him. Quiet humming stripping him of any further resistance to sleep.

* * *

_ He doesn't recognize where he is but isn't alarmed in the slightest. Unmoved when he’s sitting at a table that's covered in broken crayons and cheap printer paper. He's in a children's seat but it's built to his proportions because why wouldn't they be? Makes sense in the moment. _

_ He's drawing. Not remembering when he picked up a crayon. Funny little dumb figures and the sweet stylized S everyone thought was cool. _

_ Symbols appear on the papers. Drawn by phantom hands. Strange and alien. He pays them no mind, instead glancing up to spot Tommy seated across from him. Eyes a subtle warm glow. Expression hardened. _

_ "Tommy?" _

_ Tommy blinks and stares at him. Gently touching his arm, "Gordon can you see me? Can you hear me?" _

_ "Obviously." What kind of question was that? _

_ Tommy begins but stops short. As heels click into the barren children's room. Gordon only now notices the bunk beds, clothes and toys strewn about. In walks the idealized American soccer mom. Long wavy hair cascading over her shoulders and chocolate eyes bleeding fondness and affection. She's practically glowing herself. More saturated than her surroundings, the metaphorical light in the darkness. In one arm she cradles a golden puppy the other outstretched to a small boy that Gordon hadn't noticed seated beside him. _

_ He squeals in delight and leaps into her arms. Puppy excitedly licking his button nose. Of course it’s a reflection of Tommy in his youth. With a wave of his hand and the forced release of a disdainful sigh the scene came to a pause.  _

_ Eyes pitiful when their gazes meet. When Gordon looks back, the pair are gone. Leaving them to their business. Though his curiosity must be clear because Tommy endugles him. _

_ "I never knew my mom," he explains quietly. Off handed. "I would always dream of her coming back for me…. Pretend she wasn't gone and that we'd be a family." _

_ Gordon drops the crayon, "I'm sorry to hear that." _

_ "It's dumb-" _

**_"No."_ ** _ He insists strongly. Tommy appears to be caught off guard by the intense sentiment. "It's not." _

_ "I missed you." It's so sincere and abrupt that it catches Gordon off guard this time. Drawing forth a wholesome smile to his rugged features with a love for the older scientist warming his hollow chest. Listening respectfully as he continues, "I do have my dad now and he's… he's taught me a lot Mr. Freeman. I always knew I was different. But…." _

_ He trails off. Gnawing on his lower lip. _

_ When scratching at his cheek Gordon notices a security key on his wrist. A metal bracelet that opened doors with a built in chip. Way higher credentials than even a standard card or company ID. Like the HEV suit they're not meant to come off easily. Though it's not Mesa tech. _

_ "Mr. Freeman… What would you do… if you knew something bad was going to happen but there was  _ **_nothing_ ** _ you could do to stop it?" _

_ He mulls over it for a moment. Answering honestly, "I'd try to find a solution but if it really was helpless? Protect the people I care about, that I'm able to. Rather just fight till the bitter end if necessary if there's even a glimmer of hope. We beat all the odds at Black Mesa. You have to believe that there's another way." _

_ Tommy weighs his answer. Eyes moving to the various drawings spread out between them when terror crosses his features. Scrambling to grab and read the strange symbols plaguing Gordon's subconscious. The glowing of his eyes intensified as he reached across and grabbed him by the shoulders. _

_ "What's the date?" _

_ He gawks, "The 14th?" _

_ Tommy pales. "Gordon. When was the last time you dreamed of me?" _

_ Oh… _

_ This was a dream? _

_ "Yesterday?" Maybe? _

_ "How long since we got out of Black Mesa?!" _

_ "Over a mont-" _

**_"FUCK!"_ ** _ His forehead hits the table with a painful whack. Large hands fisting and pulling at his hair. Making Gordin wince and cringe as chunks are torn out with too much ease. "Fuck." _

_ "Tommy what-?!" _

_ He snatches his face. Meeting his eyes. Scaring him into silence. "Gordon listen to me! We're almost out of time! They're coming. You have to-" _

_ He's yanked back. Looking down to see various skeletal hands grabbing him and the chair he's seated on. The floor cracking open to reveal hundreds of staring eyes. _

_ "NO!" Tommy reaches for him again. Taking his right hand. Pulling desperately to keep him from being dragged out of his grasp. Helplessly caught between both incredible forces,  _ **_"BENREY! GET AWAY-"_ **

_ His arm is severed. Crimson splashing over Tommy's still screaming face as Gordon falls back. Dragged into the consuming darkness. Shouting above indiscernible as a single cool eye opens before him and whispers his name. _

* * *

"Gordon!"

He bats Benrey's hand away where it had pried open his closed eye in his sleep. Groggily rubbing said eye in irritation as he groans loudly and stretches. Cracking several joints. God he feels old.

Sitting up he spots Darnold at the window while Benrey is standing next to the bed. Holding out a water and nature bar which Gordon happily takes and tears into.

"They're back." Darnold muses aloud. Rushing to the room's alarm clock, "What time is it? How long did we sleep?"

"I dunno. Like eighteen hours maybe? I wasn't keeping track." They stare at Benrey who proceeds to scratch his nose.

It appears to be mid or late day so that checks out. Gordon feels a swell of anxiety mirrored by Darnold who takes his hand. Both flinching when a loud knock sounds at the door.

"You got those ropes?" Gordon breaks away from Darnold to ask the first half of the password through the door.

Coomer responds on cue, "We can use them to traverse large pits!"

He throws it open and hugs the man. Who gives him a bear hug back. Cracking his spine before him and Bubby filter in with a needed skip in their steps. They look well groomed and a tad more rested. Must have stayed somewhere throughout the night. As Coomer's dressed and Bubby's sporting new threads.

Looking like an aged greaser in a leather jacket that was too big on him. Coomer sporting a rainbow striped tank top, that displays all his muscles and scars. Abruptly reminding Gordon of the friendly guys that hang around in gyms. Look made all the better with his white shorts with socks and sandals. He'd have it no other way.

A bag of clothes is thrown at Gordon, another at Darnold by Bubby who instructs them all to get dressed and ready to leave. Pronto. They found a car and needed to hit the road. They’d overstayed their welcome.

_ "Ugh." _ Benrey whines.

Gordon walks past him. Already beginning to sort through what they'd brought, and likely stole, for him. Finding stretchy black jeans, white socks and a pair of simple sneakers. "How do you know my foot size?" He blurts out. Holding it against his sole to check.

Coomer states confidently that, "I know everyone's foot size Gordon. It's an important part of any meaningful friendship."

He snorts. "Yeah? Ok." He's also got a plain orange tshirt that appears a little big for him. Looking up just in time for Benrey to snap the band on a pair of briefs and hit him right in the face with them like a makeshift slingshot. Startling a curse out of him before he grabs the underwear and screams indignantly. "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

"Dude. You need to chill out."

"Chill out…? You want me to chill out?! DID YOU NOT SEE MY FACE ON THE FUCKIN TV?! THEY'RE CALLING ME A MURDERER BENREY! EVERYONE THINKS I'M SOME SORT OF PSYCHO FUCKING TERRORIST BENT ON DESTROYING AMERICA.  **_They're trying to kill us."_ ** He seethes. Face red and throat tight. "I can never go home. I can never see my son again… Can you just take something seriously for once!? My life's fucking over man…”

And he's had enough of the alien's games. The strange back and forth. One minute they're fine and the next they're not. He can't read him. Feels like an idiot for letting him stay close last night. Wonders if it's all just an act to laugh at him. Build him up only to tear him down. Stupid and desperate enough to fall for it.

"So?" Benrey sounds so genuine that Gordon can't tell if he's being fucked with. But of course he is. Benrey's always picking under his skin. Twisting him up and watching him writhe under his thumb..

The look on his face must be murderous because Bubby's grabbing Gordon and shoving the clothes into his arms. "Yes yes. You two hate each other. That's all fine and good but we're on a bit of a schedule here and I'm not going to die because you two can't act like bloody adults."

"HE STARTED- Alright no. I see what you mean…" Gordon grumbles under his breath and spares the consequences of another potential dickslip by changing quickly in the bathroom. Darnold following suit. He looks really good in the pale teal polo Bubby's picked out for him. He catches Benrey staring. His own bag of clothes in his lap.

"Benrey," Bubby begins. "Go change. You can't be looking like a security guard when we're trying to blend in."

"Maybe we should cut and shave while we're at it?" He offers.

Benrey stands with a firm,  **_"No."_ ** Before shuffling into the bathroom past Darnold, who he clips with his shoulder. Making the scientist frown and rub his arm nervously. Right. Space god. Probably shouldn't risk upsetting him too much given how  _ volatile  _ that reaction had been. But why get so worked up over hair? Did Benrey not know that it grew back?

Was.

Was Benrey bald?

Gordon's filled in with the older pair as they wait for Benrey. When something smashes loudly within the bathroom and water begins pouring in from under the door. Flooding the carpet. Darnold jumps onto the bed and scrambles for his shoes to avoid the dreaded wet socks.

Not a moment later the door is violently kicked open, hitting and denting the wall as it swings on its hinges. Benrey's hair is a mess.

Black like his brows. Wild with the worst case of helmet hair Gordon's ever seen, a tangled nightmare. The fringe around his face still casts shadows over his eyes. Or maybe Benrey's just doing it on purpose at this point. He's in a grey pullover. Long sleeves despite the blazing weather. Dark navy trousers and tall boots still in place. He tugs at the collar of his shirt and looks uncomfortable. Glaring when Bubby helps him into a black jacket that emphasises his wide shoulders.

"You look like some kid's deadbeat dad." Bubby mocks but giving Benrey a lookover seems rather proud of himself. 

He puts his thigh holster back on and Gordon catches himself staring for once while Benrey's leg is still propped up.

The bathroom is destroyed. Mirror shards covering the floor and toilet ripped out of the ground, thrown into the tub. "Christ Benrey what the fuck did you do?"

He shrugs, picking out a piece of glass that had dug into his palm, making Gordon’s skin crawl as dark blood gushes from the fresh wound. 

"Why did you come for us?"

Everyone looks to the potion maker. Gordon seeking the same answers but weary. All eyes now on the alien.

Benrey hums. Looking up at the ceiling. He moves back to where he'd left his previous pair of pants and gets a stick of gum out of the pocket. Speaking with it, it takes up half of his mouth. "I heard Gordon screaming."

He doesn't think he'll ever get used to hearing him say his name. "How?"

He shrugs again, blowing a purple bubble. The smack of it popping making Gordon's eye twitch.

"So you heard me, but why did you come rescue us? Last time we saw you we were trying to kill each other. Doesn't exactly add up to a rescue mission."

His eyes darken. Arms crossed as he leans against the wall. Facing everyone like a man in his interrogation. Fidgety. "I told you. I'm the only one who gets to kill you."

That makes Gordon's breath catch as it had before but he tries to hide it. Hands clenched into fists to conceal their shaking. Eyes narrowed and fixed on the alien defiantly. The smile that breaks across Benrey's face elated. Fuel to the fire that was Gordon's inferno.

"Then why haven't you killed us yet? Why wait?" He spits. Standing tall. But Benrey's taller than him now. Pushing off the wall to meet him halfway. The water is an inch high. His glowing eyes shine in delight. Bloodied hand reaching up, cupping his cheek. Smearing red across warm skin.

Just as he'd done to the guard when they'd arrived. Mimicking the gesture. Learning by example.

"Because we're friends." He shoves Gordon and this time he catches himself. Rebalanced by Coomer. Whose hand stays protectively on his shoulder. Benrey's relaxed again. Adding, "Idiot." Fondly.

Like it's obvious. Gordon bats Coomer away. "Friends don't kill each other!"

"Of course they do." He's patronizing. Like Gordon's stupid. "They tried to kill you." He gestures to the elder scientists. Slinging an arm over an uncomfortable looking Bubby's shoulder. Poking his cheek. "And you tried to kill them." A pat to the tube man's chest.

"You killed plenty of my friends." Like he was talking about stolen toys rather than taken lives. Gordon fums. Tries to keep from exploding. Coomer interjects.

"He's not wrong."

He shoots Coomer a filthy look before glaring back at the guard.

"When do you plan on killing us?"

He lets Bubby go with a "Huh? Oh. I dunno. I hadn't really- considered it." He muses aloud as Bubby gets some distance. "Probably when you get old I guess? Or maybe before someone else kills you. Not really worried about it. You guys seem pretty good at killing other people."

"And what if we kill you first?" Gordon forces a grin. Benrey seems to give it serious consideration before the tv explodes. Making everyone jump. A cackle torn from the alien in response.

He's showing off. Giving Gordon what may as well be a flirtatious look. "You can try." His fangs are bared in a grin. Turning sharp with a bitter, "But you can't hurt me anymore than you have already Gordon."

"And you're just another  **monster** Benrey."

He regrets it as soon as it leaves him. The expression that overtakes Benrey one of agony, bringing him no comfort or satisfaction. Only an immediate sense of guilt and regret. Hand fisting in his messy hair as more eyes blossom along his right cheek. Bubby close to the door. Coomer's hand on Gordon’s back. Darnold's still on the bed. Looking between everyone like he's being held hostage.

Gordon falters. The water's risen two inches now. Adding quickly. With resignation. Having to remind himself that Benrey is different. He doesn't understand, "But I guess. You're  _ our  _ monster. You didn't have to save us." All of his eyes.  **Too many.** _ His head aches. _ Are on him. "You could have let us die. It's probably what we deserved."

"Speak for yourself."

He doesn't acknowledge Bubby. Choosing his words carefully. "... Even if we kill each other. I guess I'd rather you be the one to kill me than it being any of those government fuckwads. At least you'll remember me and make my death memorable. We're…" he swallows and gives a defeated sigh. "We're lucky to have you as our friend." Small smile more genuine this time around, "Even if you're an asshole and I don't know why you go out of your way to make me hate you."

Coomer nods giving a solid smack to Gordon's back that nearly topples him. "Gordon's right! Without you they'd be fine swiss cheese and I'd likely be stuck in a coma. We owe you our lives!"

Benrey nods. The extra eyes are gone but his features are numb. Inexpressive as he simply blinks. Gordon's smile falls and thankfully Darnold speaks up to break the tension.

"I'd rather die naturally but we really should leave before they come in to see where all this water's coming from."

They'd probably flooded the room below them. Gordon nods. They collect their remaining things and head out. Though Benrey lingers. Staring off at the wall.

Stopping Gordon in his tracks while he's got a case of soda in hand. "Do you really hate me?"

He waits for Bubby to leave so they're alone.

"No… I don't think so.  _ Not anymore. _ You- You make me so angry sometimes. I don't know what you want from me Benrey. You ask to be close, then you're laughing at my pain and making me feel like shit. It isn't fair."

Benrey seems perplexed. Irritated. Forcing out. "I don't... understand."

"Neither do I." He shifts the case from one hand to another, "Come on. We need to go."

“We’ll talk about it later… right?”

Gordon doesn’t look back at him as he passes through the door, _ “... Yeah.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has admittedly got a lot crammed into it and I fear may have gotten a bit too repetitive but I was hoping to get a bunch of it out of the way to instead focus on more plot elements and character interactions later on.  
> Not super confident with my portrayal of Benrey and Bubby tbqh but trying to keep them both relatively in character.  
> Might write a side fic for what Bubby and Coomer were off getting themselves into later on.
> 
> I did a bit more research of Half Life lore and realized I also made some pretty obvious spelling mistakes. So I do plan to go back to fix things that really bug me and tweak the lore I got mixed up (like Gordon is from Seattle which. isn't small. lmao). But it'll all be super minor and does not impact anything important or vital to the story or character relationships, so don't worry about it. If you're here you don't need to go back to reread anything. In hindsight I really should have checked how you spell Chuck E. Cheese's lmao.  
> I probably shouldn't be posting this at 5am after an all nighter but no beta we die like men and I wanted to get it out before I get caught up in irl stuff again.
> 
> Thank you!


	5. Between Where We Are and We’ve Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you even know what Narina is?”
> 
> “.... Yeah… But why don’t you tell me what it is so I can see if you know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!trigger/content warning!! 
> 
> for suicide and gore, heavy death and discussion of corpses/body mutilation  
> implications of child(?) abuse, xenophobia, experiments/torture
> 
> and I think that's it???

Bubby and Coomer had actually driven to the next town over to dispose of the car but only as an extra precaution, Coomer insisted. Choosing to abandon it at the end of a walmart parking lot and attempting to make it look as inconspicuous as possible considering. Bubby had wanted to set it on fire given his inhibitors had been removed but knew probably better than anyone what needed to be done.

They'd robbed a thrift store, finding the basic security system easy to take down before shopping to their heart's content. Loaded up and looking much less suspicious than when they’d arrived, they'd used the money from the gas station robbery to buy a map and some more supplies. Bubby blending in pretty well as just another old white guy despite his face being plastered everywhere. Stolen cap and shades helped conceal his identity a bit more as they'd overheard on the radio the story being spread by the government.

They managed to steal a white pickup truck. Coated in mud that helped conceal the license plate, not raising any suspicion given the territory and dozens of similar vehicles scattered on the roads. By the time their venture was at an end it was already early morning and their own exhaustion had weighed on their minds. So they'd dipped into an alley and slept a few hours to recharge before making the trek back.

Bubby gives the quick overview as they attempt to leave unspotted. Keys in Gordon’s hands, as it was now his turn. He always did make for a good designated driver. Next up would be Benrey, but Gordon’s not eager to see him behind the wheel. Doesn’t even know if he has a driver’s license or any kind of official training.

The physicist adjusts his seat and mirrors as Benrey gets in the passenger side, the rest squish in the back with only minimal complaining. Gordon sits in the lot for a prolonged moment as worry bleeds into his tone. Watching idly as Benrey straightens out his helmet, "Do you guys think they're going to kill everyone in the motel?" Likely along with the various people Bubby had interacted with while they’d been out. “Shouldn’t we do something?”

Bubby opens his window and rests his arm on the door, "Hopefully they only killed that guy at the gas station because he saw Benrey and couldn't keep his mouth shut." He bumps the seat in front of him, "Why can't you just look normal all the time?”

"Well…” He smacks his lips loudly. Staring off through the front windshield. “Why do you wear clothes?"

"It's more comfortable?" Darnold offers awkwardly. Benrey grunts in affirmation.

Gordon glances at the alien but his eyes remain stubbornly fixated ahead of him, "Does that mean you weren't comfortable back at Black Mesa?"

"No." No he wasn't? Or no he was? "I don't want to talk about it."

Alright.

At least Benrey is keeping his human appearance on for the time being. Be strange to look over to the car next to you and see a man with discolored grey skin and glowing eyes staring back. Really put ‘I’m not human’ in perspective when his hands morphed into elongated claws and his mouth was fitted with a fucking bear trap.

Gordon reverses and they leave the ruined motel room behind. Coomer assuring them that there’s no cameras that should have caught the new plates, not that it would really matter once the owner reported it stolen but it was something. Back on the road he’s still just driving in the opposite direction of the facility with no real goal in mind other than staying alive for as long as they were able. Running on borrowed time. Same as before.

There's more traffic on these roads and even the highway, helping ease Gordon back into a false sense of normalcy. Given he's America's most wanted he has his long hair up in a bun, which is hidden under an awful baseball cap given to him by the tube man. Helps that the ID photo they’d used to fear monger and spread everywhere still has him with a goatee even though now he's wearing a proper unkempt and unruly beard.

The drive is in relative silence. No radio as the news is depressing and music somewhat grating. It's a tad tense but also nice to just sit and drive without a word. Perhaps because he's the one driving they're all worried that he'll crash if they set him off. Which is fair enough. He might. Or perhaps they all just missed and had learned to appreciate the comfortable silence. Gordon's usually frantic and chaotic inner monologue has been surprisingly quiet. His paranoia and self hatred is not as demanding as when he'd been left to the mind numbing silence of a large cell. Though the hazy glimpses and attempts to cling onto a dream, trusting the visage of a man he called a friend, had him side eyeing the guard on occasion.

Considering Tommy's abrupt cries and missed warning.

There’s so much he needed to confront Benrey about. The possibility of infiltrating his dreams had quickly moved up to the top of his list. That or he’d sound fucking crazy bringing it up. Grimacing as he imagines the mocking ‘you dream about me? Kinda gay’ that would surely follow.

He runs through his head a variety of options for the team as a whole. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Driving as if it was just any other day. 

The Russian Embassy was a long shot, along with any other possibility of seeking asylum. No guarantee that they weren't in on it and wouldn’t just imprison the team themselves regardless of who they went to for help. Forzen was French Canadian and this alien shit had happened all over the world, been contained by every sovereign nation and the higher powers that be. Darnold had no reason to lie and Gordon trusted him with his life.

That reminds him to ask Benrey later, how he knew Forzen and if he had any military training. He was a security officer in a secret government funded research facility in the middle of fucking nowhere. He assumed most were vets or ex cops. Wasn’t like he expected Mesa to be hiring just any dick that walked in with big muscles and a gun to guard their top secret information.

Can't risk going to Emily and Joshua that’s for damn sure. They're probably under surveillance along with anyone else he could think to contact like Eli or Kleiner. If they were even still alive. In the midst of their escape he hadn’t taken the time to try and locate or gather up familiar faces, given the track record his allies had of putting down other scientists and guards... Probably a good call on his part in hindsight. Even if they could get in contact, he'd have to try and explain now that he wasn't a terrorist and that they were harboring an alien space god from another dimension.

He has so much to say when they’re alone, but can't dwell on it now.

A boat wouldn't be hard to steal but then what? Do they spend the rest of their lives on the run and become modern day pirates? See how long they can make it in open waters? How long then until he’s shoving Benrey off the side and tired of being relentlessly seasick. He’s not even really a big fan of eating fish.

They need a plan.

They need more time.

"Benrey?" he keeps his eyes on the road. Gets no response but keeps going, "Could you use your powers or space magic or whatever, to maybe do us a solid and find out where the nearest cabin is?"

When he glances over when at a red light Benrey is looking at him with such an unimpressed expression that it has him flustered. His harsh gaze alone making him feel stupid for even making the suggestion, "Yeah…” He drones, “It doesn't work like that."

"Just an idea," Gordon tries to brush it off. Scratching his face and falling back into relative quiet.

It's about twenty minutes later that Benrey speaks up, "... Something's _ wrong?" _

He reaches over to grab Gordon's hand on the wheel, hijacking the steering to make him swerve right. He shouts in surprise and hits the breaks, s ending them screeching forward to a stop. Nearly hitting another car that honks at them in response. Others honking and screaming out garbled obscenities as they blared past the random truck now standing still between two lanes.

His face is rapidly heating up. Knuckles white on the steering wheel as he's about to demand _ what the fuck he thinks he's doing.  _ But Benrey's serious expression has him following his gaze. Brows rising cautiously as the frustration gets stuck in his throat. Making it hard to breath.

Further up the road the air is distorted.

Before with a crack and flash of vibrant energy a portal rips the sky open and drops an alien beast onto an unfortunate driver. Crushing their vehicle under the behemoth's weight and resulting in an immediate pile up as those ahead of them have no time to respond. Darnold smacks his arm to snap him out of it. The creature's roar echoing out as like any wild animal, it begins to panic and rampage.

"Gordon drive!" Several people screamed at him at once, that order standing above the rest. Jolting him back into motion.

Benrey simply uttering to himself,  _ “Oh no.” _

He frantically shifts gears and turns, taking off as fast as he can in the opposite direction. Those unaware of what lies ahead swerving so they don't end up in a head on collision. He’s trying to stay focused. Not get in an accident. Even as his racing heartbeat pounds within his ringing ears and he practically goes deaf to the noises within the car.

Out of the corner of his eyes he spots more portals opening across the horizon. Benrey's hand is still clamped around his own though now he gives only guiding pushes or pulls rather than just wrenching the wheel in the direction he wants. The two manage to maneuver through incoming traffic by the skin of their teeth. Clipping off a few rogue side mirrors and scraping some paint in the process of not totaling the truck.

"Turn now.”

He does so, getting off on the exit and following Benrey’s directions till they’re on a dirt road. His hand leaves Gordon’s as he falls back into his seat. An energized current buzzing within the car, boiling his feverish blood and prickling his skin. Heavy silence broken by Bubby’s exclamation of,  **_“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”_ **

“That was a ripple of the Resonance Cascade wasn’t it?” Gordon’s shaking from the adrenaline rush. Bubby begins spouting scientific jargon but seems to agree. Darnold mumbling to himself frantically as Coomer appears to still be processing what just happened, scarred hand to his mouth. The physicist looks at Benrey briefly, finding his eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a tight frown, “I thought we fixed it when we-”

“When you killed me?” Benrey interrupts. Gordon nods anxiously.

“Did you do this!?” Bubby’s accusatory tone has him pressed back against his seat when Benrey cranks his own all the way back to glare at him. Effectively pinning him uncomfortably in place as he snarls at him furiously.

**“I’m not doing anything!”**

Gordon steps in, continuing to drive with no idea where he’s going at this rate which really isn’t any different than before. Keeping an eye out for any more beasts or hostile aliens least they get ran off the road into the ditch, "Isn't this your dimension coming through to ours?"

"How the fuck should I know?" He rights his seat abruptly. Gordon feeling the intensity of his glare first hand. As Bubby rubs his legs, glad to no longer be pinned. “You’re the ones who caused it.”

Gordon stomps on the break. Causing them all to lurch forward before being dragged back by their seatbelts. The road thankfully vacant. Thank god for seatbelts. "You’re the one who compromised the test! **_You ruined everything!"_ ** He practically squeals. Benrey's eyes shine brighter when meeting Gordon’s ferocity head on. Daring him to try something.

"Nah man. He ensured it was fucked from the start. I was just trying to do my job. You should have just left us alone.”

_ "What-?" _

"Benrey," Bubby tries again. Voice stern but less hostile. "Can you stop the ripples of the Cascade?"

"I don't-" his expression falls. Voice going quiet, “I don’t know.”

“What did you mean by ‘he ensured it was fucked’?” Gordon demands. Not letting them get sidetracked again. Benrey fidgets for a moment, nails tapping annoyingly at the dashboard.  _ “Look at me.” _

He does. Appearing conflicted. Gordon recalls his dreams. Skeletal hands dragging him down and away from a shrieking Tommy. A Tommy he’s now  **sure** wasn’t just a figment of his subconscious mind or a personification of lingering guilt. The guard’s shoulders sag, brows furrowed. “The guy in the lame suit. The one that wanted you to… ya know... kill me…”

“Tommy’s dad?” He clarifies. Benrey gives a small but hesitant nod. “Explain.”

“It’s not that simple.”

**“Bullshit!”**

“The test was going to fail, Gordon! The computer exploded even before we got in the test chamber. You’re supposed to be some big brained super scientist so fucking figure it out!” Gordon recoils in shock. Hands off the wheel to be brought close to his chest. Benrey’s voice continued to rise, “The military were already on their way! I hadn’t seen him in ten years and he just showed up when everything went to shit?! And even Forzen was there! IT WAS A FUCKING SET UP!”

“YOU HUMANS COULDN’T JUST LEAVE US ALONE. YOU TOOK US. YOU TORE US OPEN. YOU DID EVERYTHING YOU COULD TO INCITE A WAR. RUIN OUR LIVES.  **ALL FOR YOUR FUCKING SCIENTIFIC CURIOSITY?!** **_THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”_ **

Gordon releases the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

The guard grabs his face, doubling over as he tries to steady his own laboured breathing. Looking as shocked by his outburst as the physicist feels. Sweet voice torn from his lips. Though he catches the bubbles and forces them back into his mouth before Gordon can properly see the shade and hue. Though he’d only be able to try and guess what he’s currently trying to repress.  _ Or where that came from. _

What was it the colonists said? For gold, god and glory? From the aliens’ perspective…

He has to think. Glancing at the others who are all wide eyed and awaiting his response. Designating him as the one fit to handle Benrey and his outbursts. Coomer at least looked a tad more optimistic. Giving him strength in a reassuring nod. He swallows, and finds his voice. “Then why were you at Black Mesa? You actually worked there as a guard right? Had shifts and knew people round the office.  _ Why?” _

“I don’t know,” Before Gordon can snap at him he goes on, “I was drawn there. Instinct maybe. Didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Because of the experiments?” Bubby offers weakly. "Your homeworld?"

“Because of Gordon?” Coomer follows.

Benrey shrugs and rests his forehead on the glass of his side door. “Dunno.  **Don't care."**

“And you went through the hiring process?”

“Mhmm.”

“With what credentials?” He presses.

Benrey’s back to mumbling in his monotone. Perhaps drained from his furious screaming that had admittedly given Gordon a bit of a  _ headache _ , “I've had other jobs. And I just lied on the paperwork. It's not that hard."

Gordon's more shocked to hear that Benrey's done paperwork, falsified all the checks and balances even, than anything else but he didn't let up. "Then how do you know Forzen? Were you in the military?"

"... It's. Complicated. Ok?" the hesitation in his voice is clear. The physicist sighs nodding in reluctant understanding.

"I know this is hard for you," he lets up a bit. Getting them moving again. "This is hard on all of us. But you need to tell us everything. If we're going to survive, we have to be honest with each other. No more secrets in the group. No more hiding. It's us against the literal fucking world and then some. We have to be able to trust each other or we're all doomed to fail. We will fucking die if we don’t work together. Are you with us or not Benrey? You don't get to jump the fence on this. You need to decide. Right now. Do or die.  **Do you have our backs?"**

Benrey's quiet. Their captive audience waiting with baited breath. 

"You're really hot right now not gonna lie." He leers..

**_"BENREY-"_ **

“ _ Chill… _ Of course I'm on your team man. We're bros. Bros before hoes~."

He obviously doesn't understand what that means. Gordon can practically imagine Bubby and Coomer vibrating in the backseat from how hard it is for them not to make a crude joke.

"Then you can start by helping us find a place to stay."

The alien makes a pleased sound. Not the reaction Gordon expected but better than he feared. Coomer breaks the quiet with a thrilling game of eye spy soon after. Everyone else went along with it to break up the gloomy atmosphere within the truck. Pointedly ignoring what they’d just seen. All the people they’d left to die.

  
  


Benrey interrupts occasionally to tell Gordon when to turn and where to go. The scenery shifts to something more pleasant and Benrey leads them past rows of trees and dark dirt roads until they come into view of a cabin hours later.

He parks and gives Benrey a look as he unwraps another piece of gum. Holding one out to him in a simple gesture. "It wouldn't have worked before. I don't know how or why so don't fuckin ask."

"Fair enough man." He takes the gum and saves it for later, for now they all filter out. Some check their surroundings while others rush to inspect the deck and front door. No lights on is a good sign.

Darnold easily finds a spare key under a decorative stone frog after a bit. The inside is expansive, it must have taken a while to build. A real passion project with a ton of money to it. The thrill of nature with all the modern comforts, power thankfully still on. Some of the decor is a tad outdated but not embarrassingly so. Instead invoking a sense of nostalgia and a home well lived in even despite it being eerily vacant. Pictures lining the walls depict at least three generations of a well off typical American family. Along with plenty of knick knacks and that personal touch. A vase lined with flowers on the dining room table long since wilted and dead. One crumbling from Gordon’s touch as he inspects the place with the others.

Whoever had lived here, had seemingly just left one day. Shoes are still at the front door, dishes drying on the counter.

Gordon takes his time to wander through the open kitchen, finding most shelves empty aside from cans and other long lasting products. The spaghetti is presumably stale and the contents of the fridge either expired or freezer burnt. They have all basic dishes and appliances though so a big step up all things considered. As he's searching he spots Coomer through the massive windows in a modest garden just outside, completely overgrown from the looks of it. All while Darnold falls into a large arm chair with a grunt in the living room, shifting it back and propping his feet up. The wrinkles on his forehead softening as he relaxes.

Gordon pours a glass of water from the tap but has second thoughts. Sniffing it and though he doesn’t notice anything off about it he still has the sense to ask. "Darnold whenever you get a moment can you see if the water's safe to drink?"

"Unless they have a private well I can tell you pretty confidently that it’s not. I'll get a filter in place that should be fine though, shouldn’t take too long if they have bleach and a coffee machine."

There's an upstairs and a downstairs too. Several rooms and beds for a big family holiday and a couple hobby spaces. They take their time exploring. Gordon finding Benrey still standing at the top of the basement's stairs. Looking grim. Seemingly not having moved since the moment they’d come in. 

"What is it?"

"I know  _ why  _ we came here."

He follows the guard down and nearly falls the last few steps when the smell hits him.  _ Rancid and potent.  _ The smell of death and something left to rot. He covers his lower face with his shirt and sure enough. There's a man hanging from the ceiling.

What's more pressing is the other body still tied to a chair. Body deformed, head devoured. The crab is dead as well on the concrete.

A story in parts.

The woman had been assimilated. When she was beyond saving, the man took action.

"Little guy must have starved to death." He hadn't heard Bubby come down after them and flinches violently. Benrey stares at the mutilated woman, batting away flies that come near. She’s caught mid change. The older scientist bends down to examine the crab, poking it with a pen to ensure it’s dead before lifting one of it’s spindly legs.

Gordon asks how long he thinks they've been here? A while, Bubby theorizes. 

"Is it possible this was when the Resonance Cascade happened?"

"If I had to guess. That or another ripple of some kind."

They glance towards Benrey who blinks and looks back incredulously. All three standing quietly for a moment before Gordon offers, "We should bury them." It's the least they can do.

"Why?"

He reminds himself not to be angry. Benrey's just asking a question, he doesn’t sound rude or mocking but just curious in that offhanded way of his. He doesn’t understand, Gordon has to keep that in the back of his head. Try not to let it get to him. "Because it's  _ respectful _ . Humans usually bury or burn our dead. It's our fault these people died. They deserve to at least have a better resting place than this."

“We didn’t bury anyone at Black Mesa?”

“No…. We didn’t.”

  
  


They bury them beyond the garden to a small untended clearing thick with weeds and wildflowers. Doing so with their valuables as it just felt wrong to take them or risk getting them stolen by others. Or at least that was the vocal sentiment of Gordon and Darnold with no real push back from the others. Coomer delivered a decent funeral right and send off. Wishing them peace and harmony. Short and sweet, much preferable to his usual stance on death simply being inevitable.

Benrey helps Gordon fill in the graves and afterwards everyone, even a reluctant Bubby, helps locate stones to cover the raised soil. Though he whines about it being dark, Gordon shuts him down by reminding the senior scientist that aside from him and Darnold everyone else has physical enhancements that gives them an advantage so ‘shut the fuck up’. 

The bed of stones clearly indicates where the bodies were and hopefully would keep any wild animals from digging them up. Perhaps their family would come in time and be able to have the chance at a proper funeral. A chance to say goodbye. Gives his conscience some relief though he knows it’ll never be able to tip the scale back in his favour.

"Do you think I killed them?" The alien asks him when they're back inside. Gordon resting on the leather couch next to him, picking dirt out from beneath his nails. The others scrounging up things in the kitchen. Putting away their dwindling stock and tossing out anything that’s uneatable to even Coomer’s standards.

He frowns. Taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. “What happened to no predetermined deaths.”

“You know what I mean  _ Feetman _ . Not predetermined, but caused.”

"Well, you said the Cascade was our fault."

Benrey licks his lips obnoxiously. Making Gordon wonder if he’s capable of doing anything without being needlessly annoying about it. "We needed this place and the people who own it are dead.”

"It is convenient… But what are you suggesting Benrey? That they’re dead because you knew this was going to happen?"

"I don't know  _ anything  _ man."

"That's obvious."

Benrey elbows him in the side, though it’s not as hard as Gordon would have expected. He paused for a moment seeming to struggle with his words, "Sometimes things happen. And it can't just be a coincidence ya know?" He takes Gordon's hand who doesn’t flinch or tear it away. But who doesn’t return the gesture either. Fingers remaining limp in his grasp, "Like finding you at Mesa. Then hearing you call me."

"I didn't call for you Benrey."

"You were screaming."

"That's nothing new for me. What I don't get is why you changed your mind about killing us. One minute you’re trying to crush me and the next you’re kissing life saving magic down my throat.”

“It’s not magic. Magic and destiny aren’t real. I thought you were a scientist?”

“Don’t avoid the question.” Though he adds quickly, “I know magic isn’t real.”

Benrey hums. Stroking Gordon's palm with a thumb. "If I wanted to kill you Gordon there isn't anything you could do to stop me."

"You let us win?"

"Nah. It's more like I half assed it. I was mad but. I didn't  **want** to be the bad guy… Honestly. Being there. What I imagine being drunk is like.”

“Like what?” If Benrey needs encouragement to keep talking. So be it.

“Amazing and terrible and can’t think straight. I wanted you and wanted to hurt you. My body. My teeth. I dunno know how to even  _ describe  _ it... The further we went, the harder it got. Like... Like I could  _ feel  _ their frustration. Their fury and their fear. They wanted me to stop you...”

He squeezes the guard’s hand to insist he go on. Though he has to take his time. Expressions shifting, opening and closing his mouth. Even beginning and cutting himself off. Clearly having more trouble with it than Gordon thought but he’s patient. Never demanding he hurry up or interrupting his thoughts. If this is what it takes he’s happy to sit in silence and just watch Benrey idly. Much less tiring than trying to take down a titan impervious to bullets.

“You'd already decided to kill me… even if you didn't know it was, me. You didn't really give me a choice……. Saying we were never friends. It hurt. Something in me. _ Just fuckin  _ **_broke_ ** _.  _ I just wanted to hurt you like you’d hurt me. Force you to understand.”

“And I still fucked it up…”

That's quite the bombshell. He’s on a roll today. Two for two Benrey goes wild moments. Hopefully they’ve met today’s quota and go back to normal. Gordon stares at the guard whose features now remain neutral following his confession, save for his downcast eyes that are locked to their joined hands. Following his gaze, Gordon takes a genuine moment to appreciate the contrast of their skin tones. The way dark claws interlocked with his rough looking fingers. "Was that the first time you were back in Xen?”

“That I can remember… since they took me... yeah… ”

Gordon nods slowly, there’s a lot to unpack. Benrey is hinting so heavily at his past, their past, that Gordon feels like he’s obligated at this point to keep pushing further. Take the bait and give Benrey an excuse to talk about it. But he doesn’t know if he can handle that tonight. Not on top of the ripples and the couple in the yard. He’s had his fair share of tragedy and grieving. He doesn’t need more guilt and confusion and hatred. He just wants to be with his friends and eat something cooked for once and then fucking sleep without thinking he’s going to wake up with a gun at his head. When he stands Benrey lets him go. Watching keenly as he stretches and puts his new glasses back on. "Let's get the guys and we can talk about everything in a group, tomorrow."

His expression falls but he nods. Adding quickly, "Things have been  _ different _ . Since we got back.”

"How so?”

“I’ve been… having weird dreams I guess. Feeling shit. Doing more than I could before.” He struggles through the next bit, “I uh. F-feel.  _ Off _ ? I um. I don’t know if it’s because of Xen or dying or whatever. But… Yeah. Not cool or chill. Super cringe.”

“Do you think you’re getting more powerful?” He offers cautiously.

Benrey shrugs with a sheepish smile. “Maybe? Things been fuckin weird since Mesa just exploded. Tommy felt it too. Least I think he did fore he fucked off to Narina.”

That’s not encouraging.

“Do you even know what Narina is?”

His silence speaks volumes. “.... Yeah… But why don’t you tell me what it is so I can see if you know?”

He actually chuckles at that though it’s strained. Honestly right now he just wants to eat something and talk with the guys before they get back into the heavy alien shit. The bouts of normalcy is probably what’s keeping his mind tethered together. “Well whatever’s going on. We’ll figure it out together. Come on.”

“... Gordon?”

“Hm?”

“When I kill you… Do you want a fire or a burial?”

He pats his hand on his thigh. Actually allowing himself to process what he’d just been asked. He supposes that Benrey’s making an attempt to be sincere. Even if it’s about as comforting as a knife to the face. “I think burning to death is probably one of the worst ways to go. At least being buried alive you don’t have long before you pass out from lack of air and die quietly.”

“That’s not what….” He trails off. Coming up behind Gordon who blocks the path. A heavy presence suddenly hovering at his back. He thinks for a moment that perhaps the very air is brushing up against him, like unseen tendrils pushing against his soul. If such a thing even existed, doesn’t stop his overactive imagination from wandering off.

“I know what you meant… I don’t care okay.? I’ll be dead. Feed me to the dogs if you want, mount my head on the fucking wall. Doesn’t really matter once I’m dead.” He continues forward, Benrey shadowing him. Quietly pouting. He offers on a lighter note at least, “Turn me into one of your skeleton minions and try to drive someone else crazy. Sure you’d love that.”

“ **Stop** .  _**Accusing** _ me of shit.”

The sharpness of his tone catches Gordon off guard.

“Or what?” Gordon teases back harshly, **“Gonna charge me for stealing something?”**

Again there’s no satisfaction in seeing the guard look hurt. Only the same twist of guilt as before. So they just stand in the short hallway. Benrey’s face flushed in frustration while Gordon’s fell into one of hesitant regret. The darkening of the alien’s pale features is strange, somehow it makes him look more human.

Almost pitiful.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. Benrey’s crossed arms stay over his chest. Eyes cast stubbornly to the side.

_ “I didn’t…” _

“What?”

Benrey shakes his head and stands straight. Colour almost immediately drained from his face, as if (most likely) consciously done. Brows narrowed and lips curled, “I didn’t tell them to cut off your arm.”

Oh. He was still on that.

“You still betrayed us.”

“You killed me and my friends.” For once he just sounds. Defeated. Gordon likewise feels emotionally exhausted. Mind a mess of chaotic confused thoughts and unpleasant memories. “You left me, even when you  _ promised _ , and you forgot. You made me the bad guy. Made me stupid.”

“Well then I guess that makes us even.” He sneers back stubbornly.

Coomer calls in that dinner is ready while the two continue to stand and shuffle in awkward silence. Neither party wanted to be the first to back down. Though shockingly enough it’s Benrey that breaks and rather quickly at that. “If we’re even, and you don’t hate me anymore. Can we... Are we friends again?”

Were they ever? Benrey did have a tendency to make him laugh but besides that...

“If you chill the fuck out. Stop being so rude to everyone and be honest with me then,” He sighs and throws his head back, cursing himself for being so damn nice, “I guess…”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Not right now.”

Benrey nods. Shuffling uncomfortably and going as far as to rub the back of his neck while some of the colour returns to his face. Humble modesty isn't for him, doesn’t look natural. Gordon at least knew how to handle Benrey when he was being a brat. This is uncharted territory in shark infested waters and he’s without a campus or a paddle. 

At least Benrey’s in the same boat it seems. “Now what?”

“Now we eat and see if these rich white people have wine stashed somewhere.”

  
  


* * *

_ So much to do, so little time. _

_ Seconds always slipping through his fingers lost to eternity. _

_ Thousands of interwoven branching paths spawning from something as simple as what he chooses to have for dinner tonight.  _

_ He’s feeling curry. _

_ Tommy watches the surgery from the observation deck. Hands wrung together anxiously as the fully suited crew of doctors and assistants worked on the man currently laying with his chest split open on the operating table. Tubes and cables lost in the mounds of meat. Blood and **black** ichor pooling onto the tiled floor. Splattered across their hazmat gear. _

_ Reminding him of HEV and the man he knew that could pull off neon caution orange better than anyone. Helped bring out his pretty emerald eyes and contrasted him to a certain guard’s softer cool hues. The sense of nostalgia and bittersweet affection makes him smile, if barely. _

_ “Dr. Coolatta?” He looks over to see a man motioning for him to come over. With a final glance back at the scene at hand, he turns and follows the well groomed fellow out into the hall. Knowing full well that he’ll be summoned back to the room when they’re done and require his assistance, even if leaving makes him anxious. Paranoid of the worst possible scenarios happening as soon as he leaves the room. _

_ Needing to assure himself that they have everything accounted for and are in total control. Would be nice if he could actually stop time. Maybe have a nap or go play with Sunkist for a while before going back to work. _

_ “It’s a pleasure to finally get the chance to meet you doctor. Mr. Heft, at your service, I’m sure you’re familiar with my work?” _

_ He’s wearing a suit, slicked back blond hair with far too much gel in it. Reminding him of his dad if only more sleazy and younger in age. Former lawyer maybe? Feds seemed to really like the aesthetic of a black tie which was about as subtle as those Will Smith movies. Wouldn’t kill them to wear some variety of colours. Made them look less like edgy tryhards. The crocodile smile spread across his handsome face isn’t fooling anyone. Though Tommy keeps his posture relaxed and casual, playing along, shoving his hands in the pockets of his similarly plain and drab lab coat.  _

_ “You’re trying to kill my friends.” He states bluntly. _

_ The man chuckles and it’s so obviously  _ **_fake_ ** _ it makes Tommy cringe, though he is more attuned to that sorta thing than normal, “Now now. Everyone in my care is alive and well, you can see the reports yourself if you’re interested?” _

_ “Get to the point, I’m tired.” _

_ His smile tightens, eyes slightly narrowing before relaxing once again. “Aw yes. Quite busy. I won’t keep you for long, sir. I only wish to ask if you have any more information on your cohorts that you’d be comfortable sharing. Off the record of course.” _

_ “Why the fuck would I help you?” _

_ “Because if they refuse to cooperate and if we don’t get what we want, we’ll be forced to take more excessive measures moving forward. You understand that this is a serious matter? If not for my division, they may have simply sentenced and executed all of you by now. Given whatever it is you saw.” _

_ He’s so wrong it hurts, but Tommy just deadpans. “I have immunity.” _

_ “Yes. Friends in high places. Gordon mentioned your father?” _

_ Tommy scowls. _

_ “I’m sure we’d all get far in our careers if daddy made exceptions for us.” _

_ He’s tempted to reveal that he’s not human. Put his higher clearance and authority badge on the prick’s smug cheek and stomp it in with his boots. Though he quickly dismisses the violent thought, blaming it on the stress and caffeine withdrawal. Shaking his head forcibly and beginning to walk past the man, who keeps hot on his trails despite shorter legs. _

_ “That was uncalled for. I apologize.” _

_ Tommy tries to ignore him but he continues. _

_ “Doctor. You have to understand that this is extremely stressful for me. You know what will happen if I fail to deliver by the deadline. I’m out of options.” The hint of vulnerability in his tone causes Tommy’s hand to hover over the elevator button. He lowers it. Steels himself and gives him a look, signaling to keep talking. “You know I wouldn’t come to see you personally if I wasn’t desperate. This is a violation that will not go unpunished. But we’re running out of time. Anything. Anything at all that wasn’t in the briefing or records. Please.” _

_ He sighs. Hand to his temple as he feels the beginnings of a migraine pulsing at his skull. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” _

_ The man’s expression sours but he nods firmly, mumbling a ‘thank you for your time’ under his breath with so much contempt Tommy doesn’t need his gifts to feel the metaphorical knife hovering over his back. Tommy hits the button for the elevator and they stand in uneasy silence. Fluorescent lights and white clinical halls in stark contrast to the man’s dark attire. _

_ He looks furious and composed, but the twitch in his lips and slight lowering of his lids is enough to highlight the beginnings of fear and a reluctant acceptance of the inevitable. Doubt evident in the way he shifts his feet. _

_ Fuck. Maybe his dad was right, maybe his sense of compassion was a weakness… _

_ “Benrey doesn't sleep. Or he doesn't have to. I don't know." _

_ "Are him and Dr. Freeman close?" _

_ Now he’s just pushing it. _

_ He shrugs dismissively. Stepping in and hitting his floor. The other frustratingly joined him. Pressing the button for one of the upper levels. The quiet hanging over them is oppressive. Though he doesn’t look away from the doors, he can feel the other’s eyes clawing at his skin.  _ _ Tommy runs a hand through his thinning hairline self consciously. Envying not for the first time the thick locks Gordon just left tangled and forced into an awfully messy ponytail. It might be more practical but it seemed like a waste. _

_ “Thank you, Dr. Coolatta. I know this… must not be easy. But you have my gratitude.” _

_ He doesn’t even glance in his direction to see if the sincerity is faked.  _

_ Doesn’t matter. _

_ “I’m not doing this for you.”  _

_ His timing’s off but the doors still open, he takes his leave and storms back towards his office. Not giving the cocky prick the satisfaction of looking back at him over his shoulder. He’s got too much to do to be wasting this much time. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I were to describe Benrey rn it would be *monotone screaming*  
> while Gordon is the Ben Affleck smoking meme
> 
> I'm still new to publishing works on here? So if anyone thinks I need to add more tags or something please lmk!  
> As always the support has been delightful and like Wayne during the Carrion stream, I am incredibly thankful and overwhelmed! I feel like a broken record but I'll say thank you a thousands times if I need too because I don't know what else to say qvq. Y'all I'm so happy I wrote the first 3 chapters and posted it here on a whim. This has been a blast seeing the response and people's theories. I'm excited to see the reactions to this update lmao.
> 
> Shoutout to jimsdeadbones for drawing some fantastic artwork of the first few chapters! Blowing my mind and making my week  
> https://jimsdeadbones.tumblr.com/post/624882662942851072/hey-so-i-read-a-really-good-hlvrai-fic-and-it
> 
> Thank you for reading~  
> I've already started the next chapter and will try to update when life allows


	6. If Death is the Last Appointment, Then We're All Just Sitting in the Waiting Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are a fucking anomaly.”
> 
> “Yeeeeeah I get that a lot. You suck at the mini games by the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!trigger/content warning!!
> 
> For heavy animal death/gore/hunting, as well as butchery and meat consumption if that's a squick of yours  
> Some medical/hospital imagery, IV's and medical horror (?)  
> And some light misgendering and dehumanization in regards to Benrey (who is nb, he/them) tying into xenophobia
> 
> There's also a nonconsensual drunken kiss, it's only nonconsensual because it caught the other person by surprise. It's still not okay but characters involved have confronted it, apologized, forgiven and put it behind them. But if that's still super uncomfortable for you, I understand and suggest you practice self care and drop this fic.  
> To go along with that, many of the characters will do awful things and not all relationships depicted will be healthy or devoid of toxic elements. I'm not trying to excuse or romanticize any awful behaviors or actions, I just want to write more complex and morally grey characters. This fic is mature for a reason so please take that into consideration.
> 
> From here on out there will be more sexuality/flirting but no smut is going to happen, things might get heated or even referenced/heavily insinuated but if the deed is done it'll be fade to black because that's not this kinda fic. I mean Benry canonically touched Gordon's dick in Act 1 and made a sucking joke, even saying 'nice' when Gordon said the suit might be jacking him off. Soooo I'm not gonna be coy or dance around it :v 
> 
> If you think I need to add any additional tw's I may have overlooked please let me know.

_ The surgery had been a success, despite his best wishes. Tommy then simply kept tabs on their patient’s progress and recovery as he focused on his other commitments. Usually being informed that he was stable but still unresponsive. Though it didn’t take long for him to receive news that the man was awake. Being informed that he wanted to talk to him specifically, after having been debriefed. _

_ There’s a twinge of anxious doubt fluttering through his admittedly muddled thoughts as he takes the elevator to the lower levels. Blissfully alone as not many had the clearance needed to traverse these areas of the compound. The few that did kept to themselves. Only a rare nod or glance of acknowledgement shared as they crossed paths within the fluorescent halls. _

_ No place for idle chit chat or pointless dawdling. _

_ Armoured guards block his way into the room. Getting him to use his identification bracelet (that’s not what it was called but it might as well be) before taking an invasive scan of his eyes and a copy of his fingerprints. The three just standing in tense silence as the equipment buffers. A small beep notifying the pair that Tommy was clear to head on through. _

_ The doors seal shut behind him, leaving them effectively trapped until it’s time to leave. But he’s not scared in that sense. Rather he just doesn’t know what to expect. His dad had taught him a trick for emergencies should things take a turn for the worse but he would rather avoid confrontation if possible. _

_ He takes a moment to collect himself, hardening his features and righting stiff shoulders. Standing straight to enact the power and presence of his impressive height as he keeps his hands folded behind his back. So that he doesn’t fidget and wring them together in an obvious tell, “Sargent Forzen, I don’t think you’re supposed to be out of bed.” _

_ The soldier’s seated on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed. Breathing in deep. Appearing to be in a state of meditation when he’d been interrupted. Growling under his breath as his attempts at inner peace were immediately dashed. “Are you my doctor?” _

_ “I’m not that kind, but I do have a PhD and I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He takes a few cautious steps into the room. Taking in the equipment and everything hooked into the man’s half naked body. Thankfully he didn’t tear out his IV or anything else when moving around but Tommy was worried he might have loosened something or possibly aggravated his wounds.  _

_ When he glances back at him Forzen’s eyes are open, revealing clouded washed out depths that should have belonged to a corpse. Instead they’re blinking at him passively. Tommy genuinely can’t tell if Forzen is glaring at him or if his brow is just naturally like that, same as his permanent scowling frown. He can sense that he isn’t angry or hostile at the moment, likely not perceiving the scientist as a threat, meaning he has the worst case of resting bitch face that Tommy’s ever seen. Amplified by the man’s facial scars and freshly shaved head. _

_ He stands, taking hold of the pole that carries his bags of morphine and the other colourful cocktail of drugs or enhancers. Taking a seat on the bed’s edge, in nothing but dark boxers (there to save the man some dignity) Tommy can see the roadmap of scars disfiguring his body.  _

_ What he believes are bullet holes, stab wounds and then a large bite taken out of his shoulder and furious slashes across his torso and arms, as if mauled by a bear. Patches of discoloured skin and the deep red Y of his autopsy and life saving surgeries forever cut in his flesh among the rest. Only amplified by various tubes and cables currently jammed into his skin, pierced flesh looking inflamed and irritated. Tommy feels his lips quirk into a frown when he sees black ichor be extracted from his ribcage and trail down the clear tube that goes off to one of the various machines set behind him. Pretty gross. Reminds him of liquid licorice. _

_ “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again, kid.” _

_ Tommy’s exasperated already, “I’m thirty seven.” _

_ “ _ **_N e a t o_ ** _. I’m sure you didn’t come down here just to catch up and talk Beyblade lore,” He gives the scientist a look over. Expression unchanging, “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t actually kill you or your dog huh.” _

_ “Well we’ll see about that.” He leans against the wall adjacent to Forzen. Crossing his arms, “I haven’t forgotten about  _ **_everything_ ** _ you did. This might not be person - isn’t personal right now, Sargent but you’re just lucky a-all my friends and Sunkist are alright.” _

_ “And you’re lucky I didn’t gut you with my knife when we were alone in that hallway,” He makes violent murder sound boring with that hollow tone. Forzen scratches near the IV coming out of his forearm. With his strange eyes Tommy can’t tell where he’s actually looking if he doesn’t move his head. Inexpressive features like a chiseled statue, and he’s got the body to go with it as ravaged as it may be. “You smoke?” _

_ “No?” He scratched the back of his neck as well. “I don’t think it’d be a good, good idea to smoke in your condition Sargent.” _

**_“Where’s Benrey?”_ **

_ Ah. Okay. Small talk is apparently over. Straight to business then.  _

_ Tommy flusters a bit before nodding and raising his head. Meeting Forzen’s unnatural eyes. That he can’t seem to get over just yet. He reads as confident and patient, overall a solid brick wall of indifference that he can’t get a good feel for unlike most people he comes across. “We don’t know for certain. That’s k-kind of why we went through all of the trouble of repairing your body… That and I didn’t have much of a choice or a say in the matter.” _

_ “But he’s on Earth?” _

_ “We’re confident of that, yes.” _

_ “Yeah, makes sense. And Freeman, the physicist?” _

_ “He’s...” Tommy winces. Quickly covering his mouth with a hand to poorly try and disguise his anguish, play it off as him just trying to think. Only when he forces himself to look away from that haunted gaze, does he take notice of the old Beyblade tattooed on the soldier’s calf. Along with a faded crude poke and stick that’s simply a jagged B drawn onto his hip. Doesn’t take a genius to guess who did that. “... in position.” _

* * *

Gordon can’t help but dwell on Benrey’s terrifying implication, that the couple who owned this cabin was sentenced to death by some unseen influence the guard had on the universe. Though he believed that the guard wasn't conspiring or doing so intentionally Benrey knew exactly where to take them after the incident on the highway and it all seemed too good to be true. An oasis in the war torn desert. The concept itself was simply horrific in actuality. Innocent people destroyed so that they'd have a place to hide. If true, then what other influence did the alien have? It was enough to make one paranoid upon self reflection. Had he only gotten a job at Black Mesa because Benrey would be there later on? Only been accepted into MIT because he'd need to be a theoretical physicist or that his passions had been guided towards it in some way without him knowing? Benrey rejected destiny and fate entirely. Looking as if he had more to say but ultimately keeping it to himself, even as Gordon had tried to gently persuade him to keep talking. That was a bit reassuring. Gordon would cling to anything that made his fears seem irrational. For his own sake.

There weren’t enough beds even with the additional rooms, but that was easily solved by Coomer and Bubby sharing the master bedroom. Giving up on the pretense of privacy towards the exact nature of their relationship, though everyone had already come to their own conclusions. Benrey was regulated to the futon as he didn’t technically need sleep and wouldn’t be bothered by a bad back. Gordon and Darnold were both pleased to have their own space and comforts. Gordon, buzzed and tearing at the seams after popping off some wine, had a blissful sleep that was undisturbed by aliens crawling under his sheets or plaguing his dreams. Sleeping late into the next day. Pushing back Benrey’s interrogation over lunch as everyone agreed to just take the time to recuperate and get settled in.

Doing the same the next day when they instead try to access the garden and see if the clothes in the house fit anyone. The potatoes have taken over, with carrots and radishes surviving in the soil. The strawberries and tomatoes either rotted or picked clean by wild life. Overgrown past their small borders and fending off a horrendous invasion of pesky weeds. Darnold in his search for chemicals and cleaners had found some seeds. Showing Gordon and Coomer a neat test with a glass of water that revealed if they were still viable.

They harvested all they could, spending hours tearing out weeds and tilling the soil. Coomer looked unironically great in neon pink gardening gloves but then picked a straw hat too small for his head. They divided the garden and planted everything in the hopes that they’d still be around to see the fruits of their labour. Gordon chuckling to himself at the unspoken pun.

Admittedly it feels kinda fucked up to wear someone else's clothes. The heavier set husband’s things mostly fit Coomer and Benrey, being loose on Darnold and Gordon. Bubby then endlessly frustrated that the wife who shared his thinner stature had tacky taste, pants doing alright on the waist but being much too short given his long legs. He’d been the one to bring out the scissors and delighting in the idea Darnold had rediscovered a modest sewing kit he’d spotted in his earlier investigations. Everyone then making the best of their limited wardrobe.

Except for Benrey, whose clothes managed to stay clean even when they hadn’t been earlier. Gordon taking notice that the cuffs and shoulders of his jacket had been subtly alerted even before they decided to go amature designer on the couple’s clothes.

“When did you change your jacket?” He’d tried asking casually. Non accusatory.

Only to be met with  _ “Huh?”  _ As Benrey was torn from his thoughts and the glossy eyed daze he’d settled in while hand stitching the altered sleeves on one of Bubby’s new shirts. Gordon let it die off at that. Impressed that even when he’s clearly not paying attention the guard’s managed a decent stitch. Much better than his own which is too loose or too tight as he pulls on the thread.

He slips with the needle, jamming it deep into the meat of his thumb. Hissing out a curse and dropping the pants he’d been trying to help hem for Coomer. Apparently underestimating just how hard it would be to hand sew denim. Watching annoyed as blood blossomed to the surface of his skin.

Before he can grab a tissue or wipe it on his own pants, Benrey takes his wrist. Firm but gentle. Leaving Gordon speechless as he dips his head down and swipes that unnatural blue tinted tongue of his over the puncture. Lapping up the small bit of blood before taking the man’s thumb entirely into his mouth to suck.

He flinches and jerks his hand back, eyes wide as Benrey just looks at him as impassively as ever. His hushed,  **_“Dude?!”_ ** Only met with a slow lick of chapped lips before he’s going back to the task at hand. Leaving Gordon,  **bewildered** . Flushed all the way to his ears as he sputtered and had to take a moment after getting up to go and try to find some bandaids.

When the others had left to try things on and help each other with measurements he’d asked simply, “Have you been messing with my dreams?”

“Wha-?” He blinks and squints at Gordon, who waits patiently though it doesn’t take longer than a moment for it to click into place, “No? I don’t. I don’t  _ think  _ I can do that? Or… I’m not.” He pulls his lips back to expose his fangs in an exaggerated frown, “Not on purpose.”

“Did you have a dream about Tommy and me recently?”

“I have lots of dreams about you Gordo.” He finishes a stitch and cuts the thread with the claw adorning his pinkie, “Usually with your shoes off.”

“PLEASE.  **_Don’t_ ** . Jesus fucking christ I’m sorry I asked.”

“You’re the one making it weird.” He points out with a smirk. Gordon kicks him and throws a pair of pants at his face, making him laugh.

“But for real,” He helps him recover from the pants attack by pulling them off for him. Benrey looking at him with too much fondness to seem appropriate for the uneasy feeling the dreams had left him with. Thinking back to the hands that pulled him down into the darkness and the voice that rattled in his head just from speaking his name. “You didn’t have a dream about ripping me away from Tommy?”

His eyes roll back into his head a tad, which is. Unnerving. But he blinks and looks at Gordon with a shrug, “Maybe? To be honest with ya, I see a lot of things when I’m sleeping.”

“Like what?”

“Memories mostly, and different timelines.”

“Different timelines?”

“Mhmm. You ever seen a star explode? Shit like that too. Fuckin lame. I prefer the dreams where we’re just chilling in your apartment playing Mario Party.”

“You are a fucking  _ anomaly _ .” He deadpans. Benrey cackles again. Pursuing his lips and tilting his head back.

“ _ Yeeeeeah _ I get that a lot. You suck at the mini games by the way.”

Benrey lamented that the people who owned this house didn’t have any console. Not even the bitch box as he so referred to it as. Darnold politely asked what was wrong with the xbox when Benrey snorted and grumbled something about _ fps fanboy halo bastards _ . The two humans exchange glances before swiftly changing the topic.

By the time they’re done everyone aside from Benrey, who seemed satisfied with a couple shirts and baggy shorts, has at least a few outfits they could push through rotation. Didn’t mean they looked nice or that the items went together but whatever. Wasn’t like they had anyone to impress out here. Maybe they went a little overboard with the alterations, ruining a few things in the process, but it was a fun distraction. Gordon able to laugh at his own failure as an amature seamstress. Worst case you just cut the sleeves and collar off a t-shirt and call it a day.

Even with the heat he’s glad for the loose fitting sweatpants the following morning. Helping peel potatoes with Darnold in preparation for lunch and dinner, it all just feels natural when coming together. Everyone having their roles and rotation of duties or chores that functioned without much difficulty. Almost like the mockery of a proper home. Like they were a family. Maybe Gordon was a delusional sentimentalist who was doing everything he could not to think about his failures as a father and of the horrific reality they'd found themselves in.

Not acknowledging the reports they'd heard over the radio the previous night, of the alien encounters sweeping the planet. That on top of the borders being closed, cities were effectively on lockdown with many staying in their homes or taking shelter in mandated relief locations. Folks in rural communities were encouraged to stay on their property and have a way of defense or immediate transport in the event of another attack. Benrey spoke up briefly to growl that it  _ wasn't  _ an attack before he was harshly shushed by Bubby. Gordon had wanted to ask if he knew for certain if it was a random chance and not a deliberate invasion but held his tongue. At least they knew that the couple's relatives wouldn't be swinging by for a vacation or holiday. The phone line and internet were dead, presumably due to missed payments. So if any calls or emails tried to reach the deceased, the Science Team weren't bombarded with constant ringing from worried family members.

The two in the kitchen share teasing jokes and embarrassing stories. Despite their admittedly rough beginnings, thanks to Gordon shoving a foot in his mouth and Darnold rejecting their inhumanity in the face of war, he finds it easy to talk to him. Darnold just has that aura about him that makes you more open and vulnerable.

They finish early and after cleaning up, move their talk to the dining room. Speaking for hours at length about all manner of things. Topics flowing freely from one to another. Darnold’s a little shy, understandably he had his reservations about the Science Team but it turns out that he has more in common with him than either would have initially thought. At one point they recount amazing playbacks and victories they had in shared favourites like Team Fortress 2. Darnold revealing that he was a big Fallout fan. Explaining to Gordon what made the first two games great and though he has no interest in ever playing them, it brings a genuine smile to his face to hear Darnold get so passionate about it. Refreshing to see his eyes light up and hands motion excitedly as he spoils an ending.

Eventually they settle down, both allowing the conversation to take a backseat. Ignoring their now dwindling supply of soda and bottled juice to appreciate a soft clunk of plastic hitting each other in a toast.

Gordon just happily admires the atmosphere when Darnold begins peeling off the label on his bottle. Tone shifting in a way that immediately has Gordon’s good mood crashing a bit, “So… You and uh. Benrey huh?”

He sucks air in through his teeth and takes a long swig of his flat root beer. He hates it but eh. Waste not. Leaning back in his chair and looking away a tad dramatically, “It’s not like that.”

Darnold just stares at him, totally unconvinced. “You might wanna tell him that then. When you had your shirt off for trying on clothes, I didn’t know if I should leave the room or not. Give you two some privacy.”

Gordon groans. Throwing his head back. Earning a quiet chuckle from the delightful potion maker. “But seriously. If you’re not interested you should tell him, especially if he doesn’t really get how our customs and relationships work.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what he wants more. To kiss me, fuck me or kill me.”

“Why not all three?” He jokes morbidly with a small smirk. Gordon nods and points at him as if he has a valid and brilliant point, playing along. Though his expression falters, “Gordon. Are you interested?”

That has him thinking for longer than he’d like to admit. Giving Darnold enough time to continue. Even though his answer should obviously be a no.  _ Right?  _ “I mean. If that’s what you want. I just hope that you’ve considered your own safety first … Since he isn’t human.”

“Neither is Tommy or Bubby depending on how you define humanity.” He’s deflecting and poorly. Not managing to do so convincingly.

Darnold gets up to throw his garbage away, pausing to offer simply, “Then maybe Coomer would be able to help put things into perspective.”

“Why bring this up all of a sudden?”

Darnold clasps him on the shoulder and gives him a gentle shake, “End of the world and on the CIA’s most wanted list? I don’t know about you Gordon, but I’d like to go out with no regrets if possible. If our time is limited then shouldn’t we live to the fullest extent while we still can?” 

Gordon just blinks, abruptly torn out of his brief bout of denial as he goes on. “Though we might not have known each other for very long. I do consider you one of my closest friends. I mean, I was willing to put my life in danger to save you back at the detention centre and go along on this crazy ride because I trusted you to get us out of there.”

“And I owe you for giving me a hand, a weapon, back in Black Mesa. Without you. I’d have died either by infection or someone just outright killing me cause I couldn’t defend myself.” He rests his hand above the other’s. Getting embarrassed about how awkward he feels, but trying to speak from the heart. Match Darnold’s honesty with his own. “I don’t think I can ever really say just how thankful I am for all your help. You’re an amazing person Darnold. Finding you in the Mixology department was one of the silver linings. I’m glad I met you… And I’m sorry I was a total dick about your potions. I know how shitty it feels to have someone devalue your work, so it was really cool of you to still help us out.”

“You’re a good person too Gordon.” He lightens up a bit, “Maybe with a penchant for murder, but I do think your heart’s been in the right place. You should be kinder to yourself. You deserve to have a chance at being happy.”

“So do you.”

He nods. Allowing his hand to fall back to his side. Hesitating briefly as he seems to have his own train of thought take control, “Do you think Tommy is alright?”

The dreams flicker across his mind’s eye. How wretched and broken he looked. Gordon lies with a straight face, “I think he’s okay. Wherever he is.” Adding some truth to it, “He has his dog and his dad, so he’s in good company.”

  
  


Gordon’s been actively avoiding how he feels about Benrey since… well since he saw Benrey shoot what was effectively the warden and felt his heart soar with joy rather than drop in dread. The other night he hadn’t outright rejected the guard’s request for a kiss either, only delayed it. Hadn’t made as big as a scene as he maybe should have when Benrey thought it was a good idea to start sucking on his fingers outta fuckin nowhere.

They were barely friends, no one else is able to set him off as quickly and violently as Benrey does. He can’t even dipcher his odd outbursts and terrible mood swings. Can’t decide if Benrey’s blunt attraction or life ending promise is ultimately more frightening.

The body horror is one thing, feet pics is another. He's only half convinced that was a joke.

If he didn't die and the world didn't end, would he age while Benrey remained the same? He looked worn down by time, with dark bags under his ethereal eyes and lines carved into the planes of his face. Both Benrey and Mr. Coolatta would never be mistaken for youthful but how old were they really. Were they even compatible on a physical level? Could he do better than he had with Emily? He doesn't see a break up going over well and there's Benrey's blatant possessiveness and jealousy to consider. Seeming to confuse Gordon's blossoming friendship with Darnold as competition for his attention.

He's gross and weird and inappropriate and rude. A practical manchild with his tantrums and convoluted bullshit. Who doesn't seem to care about anything outside of video games and trolling Gordon. And there's the whole thing about killing people without any remorse or reason and licking a corpse or two.

What he should do is obvious then. Or it should be. He should just let Benrey down as gently as he can and start to discourage his advances and bizarre attempts at flirting. Hope he handles it with grace.

But then. Benrey can make him laugh so easily, better than anyone else in fact. Even if it's at his expense he can't count the number of times the guard has made him smile and fail to hold in a wheezing bout of laughter or snorting chuckle. Catching a glimpse of his own small smile or pleased grin at managing to get a reaction. Even if initially believing his attraction to be a mean spirited joke, it felt nice to be desired. And in the privacy of his own mind, admittedly kind of an ego boost when it's from a powerful interdimensional godlike being. Gordon knows he's not the greatest looking guy out there by any stretch. Honestly rather plain without any of his hair or his defining green eyes. When Benrey's not being an asshole, he does like the attention. As annoyingly clingy as he might have been.

Being held in his arms. He shouldn't have felt comfortable. Definitely not safe.

After having him essentially vomit Sweet Voice into his mouth like a baby bird and legitimately choke him with his tongue… He shouldn't imagine what teaching Benrey how to kiss properly would be like. How endearing his excitement would be as he tried to act sauve and cool. Wondering if he'd get flustered and dazed should Gordon hold his chin and cut off his ramblings with a stern kiss.

Not that nor allowing himself the fantasy of holding his hand in public as they laugh and boast loudly, careless of the world. Of having Benrey cheer him on in a fight or debate and getting the satisfaction of beating him in a game. Of feeling clawed hands that could rip him to pieces, touch him with such careful consideration it bordered on  _ reverence _ . Hearing breathless chuckles and quiet gasps filter through fearsome fanged teeth before they pressed harmlessly against his tender lips. Crushed against a body that shields him from the horrors of a cruel reality. Feeling safe and protected as they dozed through soft Sunday mornings and drunkenly snored into late Friday nights. Maybe even comforted in the knowledge that his death will have meaning. A vow that implied a final shared experience before leaving the immortal to his own devices for either the rest of eternity or until he moved on and found another. Perhaps because seeing the human grow feeble or sick with age, suffering indefinitely, would be more painful than being alone.

There was definitely something wrong with him, Gordon decides.

Benrey was without exaggeration, a monster. So then why? Why did Gordon feel a loss for a lifetime they'd been denied? The future was uncertain. Ominous in it's grisly possibilities. They essentially had no future together.

They didn't have the time to fall in love properly. Fix things like they should and keep it slow. So that both of them were less likely to fuck it up. No awkward first date or introducing Benrey to Joshua. No teasing from Emily that she must have really fucked him up. No satisfaction of being with Benrey shamelessly and without compromise, spitting his parents in choosing his own happiness.

_ If our time is limited then shouldn’t we live to the fullest extent while we still can? _

Well okay he might be attracted to Benrey upon long reflection. Laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling as the thin floors allow him to hear Coomer and Bubby light heartedly bickering upstairs. But that doesn’t mean they could go anywhere substantial in that direction.

They should work on figuring shit out first and trying to survive.

But maybe they do need to talk a bit more, not let the progress so far fall behind. Instead acknowledge and tackle those uncomfortable cultural differences and the problems in attempting communication. Benrey clearly struggled with certain things and was lacking a lot of basic understanding of humanity and how things worked. He was like a stupid kid putting gum in Gordon’s hair because he didn’t know how to just say what he was feeling.

And Gordon in turn was quick to anger. Assuming that Benrey was almost never being genuine or was actively trying to upset him. Perhaps instead it’d been a joke taken too far or a flawed interpretation of how friends treated each other. Benrey did seem convinced that killing your inner circle was perfectly normal and… okay yeah they did all try to kill each other and had killed a lot of guards and other scientists in their escape.

Gordon hadn’t overlooked that Benrey seemed to be copying many of his previous actions or mannerisms either. Like cupping his cheek, slapping his thigh and elbowing him in the side. When they’d left the hotel, he’d admitted to being confused and lost. Being quite forward since.

_ ‘I don't... understand.’ _

_ ‘I don’t know.’ _

_ ‘I didn't want to be the bad guy…’ _

_ ‘And I still fucked it up… _ ’

He was certainly missing his confident swagger and lackluster attitude, not unlike when they’d landed on Xen. At first trying to reason with a belligerent and stressed out his mind Gordon who wouldn’t listen to reason before doubling down and accepting his role as the presumed villain of their self made story. 

Perhaps this  _ was  _ what it was like when Benrey cared. Maybe the seriousness of the situation had finally dawned on him, when Gordon was shot or had collapsed in the motel bathroom in tears. The guard now struggling to keep up that persona of his, and trying to remain untouchable. Maybe it was just the changes he’d confessed to, the feelings of being off. Or it could just be another effect from the ripples of the Cascade continuing to blur the lines between Earth and Xen.

One could only guess because Benrey didn’t seem so sure himself.

Gordon is up thinking for hours, not knowing when he finally falls asleep.

Drifting off with the thought of Benrey being on the futon nearby in another room, staring up and perhaps thinking of the same things from beneath the safety of an old quilt.

What was it like to experience his 'dreams'?

He hopes he’s spared from nightmares. Given the concerning details he’d let slip so far of his past, Gordon isn’t sure he’d ever want to peek inside his twisted head.

* * *

_ He lingers behind, taking his time to gather his things and collect his thoughts after the meeting. Unsure of how to process what he knows is happening and what it means. The ripples of the Cascade were getting larger and harder to contain, soon it would go public. As had been expected. _

**_Great_ ** _. Forzen had interrupted the speaker. Stating that they could then enact Marshall Law ahead of schedule. _

_ Fortify all major cities and start drafting civilians into his new sect of the military. _

_ Tommy's stomach had hurt and ached for the duration of their talks today. Per usual he said nothing unless he was called upon, preferring to keep to himself. Contribute as little as possible and not play directly into their game. _

_ His only outburst in the past having been when Forzen had initially reported in and detailed the failed operation within Black Mesa. Tommy found it strange and dehumanizing to be referred to in code as the soldier had broken down various events within the facility and their encounters with the Science Team. Gordon was Dorothy, Coomer Tinman, Bubby the Cowardly Lion and Tommy was Scarecrow. Sunkist even referred to as Toto when diving into his capture and failed hostage negotiations. _

_ Forzen was explaining how he'd ran into Benrey early on, known as Subject Lazarus by the others present, and had convinced him to help set up an ambush to apprehend Freeman for questioning when Tommy had called him a  _ **_liar_ ** _ before he could stop himself. Forzen pausing in his speech to wait for the scientist's furious ranting to come to an end. Don Heft apologizing to everyone in the room for Dr. Coolatta's indiscretion, dismissing it as foolish sentiment, before Forzen continued as if nothing had stopped him in the first place. Tommy's head in his hands as Forzen revealed the failure of his men to deliver Dorothy to the Wizard and instead were reported dead by another soldier keeping the perimeter. _

_ He doesn’t want to think about it. About how they all stood back and watched the soldiers beat Gordon down, how all of their tones swiftly changed when the knife was pulled and arm severed. How Gordon cried out and was dragged off in shambles, leaving behind a crimson trail in the dark hall along with his still twitching hand. Discarded, the other scientists herded out like cattle as the guard had bent over to take the severed limb. _

_ They’d insisted that Benrey wasn’t in on it when Gordon had tried to convince them otherwise. Pretty unbelievable when Forzen had shot him in the head without hesitation, but now knowing that they had history, of course Forzen knew that Benrey would be fine. Benrey then planted the seeds of doubt among Bubby and Coomer, distracting Tommy long enough to get away with leading Gordon right into the trap. _

_ And those codenames are so demeaning. They have names. They aren’t just dots on a grid or faceless figures given meaningless titles. They were people, they were human. He wasn’t filled with straw, he bled and cried the same as anyone else. _

_ They didn’t even refer to Benrey as a he or a them. But as  _ **_it_ ** _. Forzen the only one to even speak of him as if he were a person. Which made Tommy’s blood boil, as he bit his tongue and tried not to snap another pen in half. Doing what he could not to make another scene. _

_ Today’s meeting wasn’t as awful as Forzen’s but it wasn’t exactly pleasant. He’s just glad that it’s over. He wants to see his dog and forget for a couple hours what he’s doing and why. _

_ It’s as he’s exiting the conference room that he overhears someone hacking. Coughing violently not far down the hall. He thinks nothing of it until he sees that it’s Forzen whose clinging to the wall and hunched over. _

_ Blood spotted between his feet. _

_ He shouldn’t care. He doesn’t. But he’s not a cruel person. Sometimes he just can’t help it. He knows, can feel, that the man is in terrible pain. Even after his supposed recovery, the agony in the hunch of his shoulders makes Tommy’s tense up in sympathy. _

_ “Sargent are you alright?” Comes out before he can snap his mouth shut and stomp off in the other direction, regardless of the fact that his office is that way. _

_ He straightens. Peering at the scientist from over his shoulder, terrible eyes boring into him before he’s overwhelmed with another fit. Tommy taking slow steps to see him proper, wincing at the blood and black covering his hand and falling from his chin. _

_ “Do you need me to get to- to call someone- for you?” _

_ Forzen clears his throat and spits whatever’s left in his mouth onto the floor with the rest. Taking in a deep breath and squaring massive shoulders. He wipes his face on the material of his gloves, which is kinda gross and just grunts. “I’m fine.” _

_ Tommy glances at the pile on the floor. Slowly raising a dark brow, “You don’t look fine.” _

_ He sneers and pushes himself off the wall to get going. Throwing his weight around and storming down the hall. Red and black still marring his skin and left on the wall and floor where he’d gotten sick. Tommy sighs, rubbing his temple. Making note to inform someone that this area now needs to be disinfected and scrubbed down from top to bottom to avoid a biohazard. _

_ Right now though he has an appointment with his father he can’t miss. _

_ Maybe if he’s lucky Forzen will die before they get back. _

* * *

It had taken Bubby and Coomer a couple days to set up some defences while the others had been taking care of other matters like water filtration, noting down anything vital given by the radio and mapping out the local area, cooking meals while keeping stock of their quickly dwindling supplies. 

Gordon spiced up some instant ramen with a recipe he’d come up with back in his undergrad days for his turn to cook. Coomer offering to take up his cooking days if all he knew how to make was KD and fried hotdogs. He’d needed some ice for that one. Benrey was skipped when he’d admitted he didn’t know that milk could expire. Then he’d been caught by Gordon about to microwave a metal bowl filled with popcorn kernels. He didn’t understand that you kept them in the bag. Then setting one on fire by putting it for too long and being banned from touching anything in the kitchen, Bubby spraying him with the fire extinguisher too for good measure.

Upon returning to the basement, Bubby and Benrey had found that the husband was a hunter of sorts. The team utilizing that to their benefit. Setting up trail cameras in as many spots as they could given the limited supply, so that they might have a chance to spot anyone that’s on their way. Improvising a few traps. Coomer’s enchantments and extendo arms helping them digout pits and Bubby’s brilliant understanding of mechanics and physics meaning the log trap they constructed would kill any man from impact alone at that speed.

Darnold had even set aside various chemicals and sprays, to make into offensive potions when necessary. Stating that the wasp spray and bear repellent would be fine as they were, advising to aim for the eyes and mouths. Stating that the insulation spray was also good if used properly but could malfunction because this brand was cheap as shit and the nozzle was worthless. His words.

All the guns were cleaned and ammo counted. Everyone equipped with their preferred firearm, Benrey delighting in the hunter’s shotgun, and the rest were stored in prime locations should they be needed in an ambush. Bullets divided like it was the rarest material, resulting in some debate of who was the better shot and should be given more, Gordon making the grim joke that they had better make each shot count.

After everyone had practically complained about a lack of protein all the scientists were shocked when Benrey was the one that offered to go hunting. Completely unprompted. Offering to go today since he had nothing else to do and was really hungry himself.

“Alone?” Darnold fretted. Having become a tad more accustomed to Benrey during their stay, the two sharing a few small conversations here and there as Benrey seemed to take Gordon’s lectures on being a team into serious consideration. It wasn’t great given Benrey wasn’t one for stellar conversation, but there was an attempt. At least both of them liked video games and could talk about that endlessly, to Coomer’s displeasure.

“Better that way.” He drawls. Returning his shotgun to the table and instead taking up a large knife that looked more for show than anything else. Grinning into the reflective blade. “Humans are just too slow, and way too noisy.”

He looks at Gordon following that, and he really isn’t all that offended honestly. He was surprised and always pretty lucky when he had managed to catch a beast or soldier off guard, on the rare chance they already had their backs turned. The HEV suit wasn’t great at stealth, being neon orange and making his metallic steps more audible. Not to mention he can be kinda clumsy and blundering at times.

“Is that safe?” Coomer offers his own concern. Benrey shrugs and Bubby pats him on the back before shaking his shoulder, merely resulting in the alien looking in his direction.

“Of course he’ll be okay! We’ve seen this guy take everything we could throw at him and then some. What harm will come of a few pesky deer? He runs into any actual trouble then he can handle it and get back here quicker than any of us could.”

He took his jacket, which Gordon noted was now a deep navy on the inside instead of an off black, off before leaving. Even taking off his beloved helmet, which he then handed to Gordon. 

The physicist just stood there, holding onto it stupidly as he gifted a weak smile and a quiet, “Be safe.” In return.

The guard licked his lips and looked away quickly. Shrugging and tossing the knife up into the air, catching it effortlessly as he made his way towards the back door, “ _Uh_ _yeah…_ You too. Don’t die.”

Gordon chuckling awkwardly, “I’ll try not to.”

With Benrey gone into the woods, Bubby pointed out on the monitor they’d moved to the living room exactly when and where he passed the cameras. A visual glitch making him worry that perhaps the equipment was faulty, but Gordon thinks otherwise.

The Science Team deliberates on what they need to ask Benrey when he gets back. Having pushed and procrastinated on it long enough. Now settled in and having reclaimed a sense of control, there was no reason to continue putting it off.

Bubby rather bluntly insists that Gordon and Benrey get their personal shit figured out on their own time, since most of it shouldn’t concern the rest of the group. Gordon agreed that it was probably for the best, though he’s weary of pushing into the topic of the guard’s past. They take their time with it. Coming to an understanding by the time Benrey returns in the evening.

“Looks like Ole’ Smoky’s the one who should’ve been watching his back, huh fellas?” Coomer laughed when Benrey dumped a fucking full sized grizzly bear on the outside step. Congratulating the alien on his physical prowess and tenacity.

“Hold on I got more.”

_ “More?” _ The potion maker whispered.

Benrey ran off excitedly back past the clearing and into the trees, coming out with a deer under each arm. Large males with full crowns. Gordon’s jaw on the floor when he holds up a finger and goes and gets his shirt, which is stuffed with rabbits as a makeshift bag.

He’s covered in blood and gore but it isn’t his own.

Looking  _ elated  _ as everyone else appears amazed or horrified in the aftermath of a successful hunt. Meeting Gordon’s eyes with what he thinks is something hopeful, proud. Is this an alpha provider thing? Everything on Xen did seem to want to kill you. Gordon’s reminded of a cat bringing one a dead bird as a gift. So despite his own concerns and lingering shock, he does manage a tight smile. Lamely giving a thumbs up. Benrey’s eyes shine all the brighter as he gives a mad cackling laugh and takes out his knife to start skinning and butchering the meat right then and there.

At least he’s doing it out here.

Darnold looks like he’s going to be sick so he heads back inside, while Coomer seems like a proud father about to shed a tear at his son’s latest achievement. Bubby doesn’t want to touch any of it because he thinks it’s gross and doesn’t want to get his clothes dirty thank you very much. So that leaves Gordon.

The scientists tell Benrey what they can and can’t eat, accepting that the cuts aren’t going to be that great as he just slashes and severs without a care. Packaging the abundance of meat in any plastic bags or wrapping they can find, Gordon’s sure on their fourth trip that even the two big basement freezers isn’t enough to store it all.

Coomer lingers behind to try and tetris things around to get some more space while Gordon heads back. Making his way through the door when he catches Benrey holding one of the wild jack rabbits. Fur and everything still intact. Staring at its face blankly. He’s about to ask if he thinks it’s cute when the alien’s mouth opens  _ far too wide, _ teeth appearing longer in the low light of the evening sun, before he bites down on its head. Severing it at the neck in one swift tear. Head thrown back and eyes half lidded as he chews, streams of crimson escaping the seal of his lips before he seems to notice Gordon watching. Smiling lazily with stained teeth after a hearty swallow. Making his blood race icely through his shuddering veins.

Fight or flight triggering as his rational mind falters and lags behind.

Frozen in place as wires cross and he doesn’t know what to do.

Hand still on the doorknob, one foot on either side of the door.

_ Benrey could have done that to  _ **_him_ ** _ when he was big. _

Benrey glances at the rabbit and seems to catch on. Brows narrowing, knitting together tightly and bloodied hand ran through his atrocious hair. Uttering a hushed curse as Gordon slowly snaps out of it. Stiffly closing the door and wincing at how many bugs he must have just let inside. How Bubby isn’t going to let him hear the end of it. He keeps his back to Benrey for a moment, giving his heart a bit of time to stop racing so frantically before he’s ready to face him.

He’s back to carving. Slicing a pristine rabbit open. Not acknowledging Gordon as he gets it done. Pausing to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand fruitlessly.

“Kinda shit that humans only have two hands.”

Gordon almost thinks that’s a shot at him but has the tact to acknowledge that Benrey is examining his own hands as he says it. Shifting uncomfortably where he’s taken a seat on the stone step, unable to help but look down at the hands on his knees.

“Those big eyed aliens that attacked us had three didn’t they?” Benrey makes a sound of confirmation. “How many hands do you have?”

_ “Depends.” _ He answers honestly. Pausing to face Gordon. God. He looks wild. His once overjoyed expression now fallen back to his mask of indifference. But Gordon can’t be blamed for his instinctive reaction. He can’t pick and choose what scares him.

This is a weird talk to have given the circumstances, “Do you have a default form?”

“I... don’t… think so?”

“Is it okay?” Oh fuck that sounds stupid doesn’t it, “Being a human?”

“Yeah?” He raises both brows.

“That’s good then. You,”  _ Fuck _ , “You look good as a human.”

Said brows then slowly lower and he squints suspiciously. Gordon flusters, raising a hand, “I don’t mean- It’s just that you implied you’re more comfortable like this than you were when we were in Mesa, with the eyes and the skin and the teeth-” _ Like holy shit those teeth _ , “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or to hate it too much.”

“If I didn’t want to be  _ this _ ,” He gestures at his chest with the knife. Too close to the skin for Gordon’s comfort, “I’d have stayed in Xen and gotten rid of it. Couldn’t exactly stick out in Mesa without getting in trouble.”

So he did look different among his own kind, if those were indeed his kin.

“I even looked like you once.”

The scientist is careful with his next words, “What do you mean?”

“You were the first human body I made,” He hums and leans back on a hand. Shifting from his knees to sit on his ass in the large pool of blood. “Uuuuuh, what is it... T _ hose blue paper things?” _

“Blueprints?”

“Needed a blueprint of a human. Then I could make my own.”

He guessed that made sense. “When we were kids right? Your first humanoid body would have been like mine at what? Five-ish? Not really an impressive template.”

They sit in silence for a bit, Benrey ignoring the job at hand and Gordon not wrapping up the bit he’d already finished and set aside. He presses gently, “What was an original change you made to your appearance?”

Benrey looks away shyly. Which is bizarre considering the graphic scene before him and the ravaged state of his person. Large knife being tapped lightly against his still wet and dripping lips as if in thought. He takes a long time, but Gordon knows that he should wait. That he’s thinking it through at his own pace and needs to be given some leeway. “My hair…”

Oh. That’s. Not what he was expecting.

“You said you liked girls with long hair.”

Gordon nods, face heating up a bit despite how uneasy he is. Stomach still unsettled and that bit of information only dumped more into his internal swell of anxiety. Benrey’s head snaps towards Gordon looking past him at the glass door, Gordon quickly follows his gaze and Coomer’s standing there with his hands on his hips. Making him wonder how long he’d been waiting for _ whatever this was  _ to be done. Coming out now that he’d been noticed, to get them back on track. Stating that they could probably fit a little bit more in but that some of it would still be going to waste despite their best efforts.

Along with the barrel of organs and remaining carcasses, the boxer cheerfully adds.

“It’s fine,” Benrey stabs the knife into the ground and stands, “I’ll eat it.”

“How responsible of you!”

Gordon hangs back with his last set of packages, Coomer thankfully not hounding him to keep up. Likely understanding that they need a bit. The stench of iron overwhelms his senses as Benrey comes up behind him. Seeing from the reflection of the glass as a stained hand rises to reach for him, only to fall, swoop and scratch his other arm, trying to play it off.

Benrey wants to say something. Gordon doesn’t understand why he just won’t speak.

“Come to my room tonight.”

**_“Wha-?”_ ** He startles, voice higher pitched than usual in his shock.

“Come to my room,” Gordon clarifies. Turning to look up at the guard, despite the shaking of his own hand. He reaches up to push some dark hair off of his forehead and out of his face. Tucking another strand behind his ear. Drying sticky blood gets on his fingers in the process but he keeps their eyes locked. Pulling away slowly as to not seem like he’s revolted, “After you shower and after we eat. We need to talk about when we were kids.”

At first Benrey tenses then leans a tad into Gordon’s fleeting touch. Lids lowering and lopsided smile making a return. Only seeming to be half listening as he hums pleasantly, a few Sweet Voice notes following. Colourful bubbles floating free. Crimson and scarlet in hue.

Fuck he’s bad at rhyming. 

“Did you get that?” He has to ask, just to be sure.

Benrey leans closer. Smelling of death, along with an earthy musk. Gordon doing his best not to rear back. Not looking to hurt or offend him with another quick reaction.

And then the bastard actually fucking  _ purrs _ . The Sweet Voice that follows a lighter shade of pink, “Yeah. I got you.”

“You really need a shower.” He bluntly admits, nose scrunching up.

Benrey roars with that strong laughter of his. Hand to his face like he’s an old anime villainess. Giggling afterwards, “Can I finish eating first?”

He leaves before Benrey can begin. Not questioning the sound of something tearing and snapping before he closed the door. Back pressed to the glass as he denied every stupid part of him that wanted to look back and see. Had humanity learned nothing from Orpheus!?

Was he Hades then? And Gordon the fair Persephone? Dragged by the ankles into the deity’s wicked and ravenous affection only to submit to the indulgence of temptation. He may have lost the metaphor… Gordon wasn’t a Greek geek. He was a math nerd that played D&D instead of getting drunk at parties.

He knew what Benrey was. This shouldn’t be surprising.

He still feels a bit queasy regardless.

Coomer is waiting for him, letting him know that he did a spectacular job helping with the meat production. Looking over Gordon’s shoulder and past the glass separating them from the other. Whatever he bears witness to, his cheerful expression doesn’t change in the slightest and Gordon is happy to take his hand and be led off away from the back of the cabin.

Later they’ll find only the stones and grass marred with red. Not even a single bone left behind as Benrey gorged himself. Gordon is surprised that after seeing Benrey showered in blood and guts, ripping the head off of a rabbit, he’s still somehow managed to stay attracted to him. He’d noticed and appreciated seeing Benrey with his shirt off for the first time, how he carried his weight and muscles and where his happy tail went off into the cut of his pants. And fuck him why couldn’t either of them be normal?! He shouldn’t think Benrey looking at him so dopey eyed and singing warm hued Sweet Voice was cute.

  
  


Benrey leaves a trail of dark footprints from the door to the bathroom. Gordon quickly cleans it up before anyone slips on the blood or tracks it further, luckily it’s not on any carpet which is a relief but it’s still annoying.

Bubby’s taking the pc apart upstairs while Darnold advises and makes occasional suggestions. Coomer hovering near Gordon as he throws paper towels out and washes his hands.

Helping him put away the now dried dishes they’d washed after tonight's dinner. Everyone really digging into the deer and rabbit, regardless of fat or gristle. The more human one was, eating around it, while those with replaced organs or different anatomy didn’t seem to care. With that and the steamed seasoned vegetables, it was a decent and more balanced meal.

Not the bullshit convenience store garbage they’d been mostly surviving on and breaking up the monotony of potatoes.

A glass of red wine going well to highlight how far he’d come from the slop they’d poisoned him with in that damn cell.

When the plates are done and Gordon releases a small sigh Coomer goes for it.

“Would you like to join me on a walk Gordon?”

“Is that the best idea?” He knows what he’s doing but is still cautious.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. If the military knew where we were, they’d have been here by now.”

Good enough for him. They don’t go far, just take a small stroll around the property. Remaining on the remnants of a path now being overgrown. Fresh weeds and such crushed under step as they appreciate the night sky and a fragmented moon hanging high above.

“Did you know that Bubby threatened my ex wife on the day of our wedding?”

They come to a stop, Coomer’s voice taking on it’s more serious edge. Gordon’s shoulders fall, head lowered. Unsure how to proceed with this whole ordeal. Not even knowing for certain if he wants to have this talk or not. Especially not with Dr. Coomer. “No. I didn’t. You don’t really talk about your wife. Didn’t think it’d be cool to ask.”

“Bubby was allowed to come, with permission of course. A Black Mesa guard stationed in the crowd to make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You see.” He chuckles fondly, “He got drunk.  _ White girl wasted. _ Late into the reception after a dance with my new wife, he splashed his drink on her dress and called her a whore.”

Gordon suddenly feels very very uncomfortable with everything that’s happening all at once but he isn’t surprised at all to hear that Bubby would make that day all about him. Coomer goes on, if he notices Gordon’s discomfort he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“She was furious. Crying and sobbing once he was escorted out by family and said guard. Blamed me for bringing him as my best man while I was just glad he hadn’t set her dress or the tapestry on fire. After making sure she was alright and with her sister, I caught up with Bubby to demand to know  _ why  _ he’d go out of his way to ruin it for me.”

“He kissed me, Gordon. Right there. In the parking lot, in front of the Black Mesa guard. Then he screamed in my face for being, in his words, just like everyone else and making him out to be a fool before he was sedated and taken back to the facility. Tears streaming down his face as he shouted, looking on the brink of collapse. The test that was supposed to determine his integration into the outside world was deemed a failure and any chance of him legally getting outside again, was quite unlikely.”

“What happened?” His commentary feels unnecessary, but he wants to show that he is listening. All while examining the stars and looking for constellations. Needing a bit of a distraction, considering.

“I went on my honeymoon with my wife and when I returned to work, found out that he’d been blackout drunk and couldn’t remember a thing past the hangover. Apologized for making an ass of himself and for not being a better best man.” His voice lowers further. Gordon sparing him a sympathetic glance, “I thought it’d be best… to pretend that it never happened and keep things as they were. So that we could stay friends. Everyone could use a friend Gordon, and I think Bubby needed one more than most. God knows I sure did.”

“Well eventually I got old and left her. Wretched hag had stolen my best years and it’s fair to say we made each other miserable. I devoted myself to my work, and donated my body to the cloning experiments despite knowing the risks involved. I continued to work alongside Dr. Bubby and the others within our department while managing the underground Mesa fighting ring, at least that was something I could be passionate about. Even if it meant just punching security and coworkers in the face.”

“Then the Resonance Cascade happened and well you know how that goes… What I’m getting at Gordon, is that our little wayward venture through all of Black Mesa has put a lot of things into perspective. Seeing Bubby panicked and terrified in his tube again, knowing they’d put him in there time and time again while I stood by and followed proceder. Seeing how confident and wonderful he was... I wondered,  _ not for the first time, _ what could have been had I not allowed cowardice to overtake me.”

“He came with me after we left the pizzeria if you recall. His Mesa dorm not safe to return to. It was that night that he confessed to me over a beer and some David Bowie, that he’d been having similar regrets. Such as lying to me about being blackout all those years ago.” Gordon just watches the man as his somber eyes are conflicted by a tender smile. His heart giving a pang of sympathy and shared remorse. He can’t even imagine how it would feel hearing that, after resigning yourself for god knows how many decades apart. “If we had been honest, if we had trusted in one another. Perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps we could have spent the wonders of our youth discovering the world and pursuing our true passions.”

“He might have become the head of NASA by now or been to the space station and maybe I’d have won myself the championship belt and retired after setting some new world records. We’ll never know.”

“We don’t know if we’ll die tomorrow or in five years or twenty. Bubby has an expiry date, but we don’t know when it is and my cybernetics could malfunction at any given moment without proper repairs. We could be shot and killed tomorrow or simply be hit by a car on our way to get groceries. So we’ve decided to make every minute we have left count. Because it’s all we have.”

Coomer approaches and Gordon lets him get close. Looking down at their feet as two large hands, heavy with mechanics hidden under synthetic skin, rest on his shoulders. Coomer looking up at him with a fondness he honestly doesn’t feel worthy of. “Bubby is not an easy man to live or get along with, but you know what he does right?”

_ “What?”  _ His voice sounds so small. So vulnerable. He’s embarrassed.

Coomer’s face lights up with a wide smile, round cheeks dusted with pink, “He makes me happy.”

They stay like that for a moment, a hesitant rise of Gordon’s arms having him enveloped in a bruising hug. Face buried in wild hair. Unsure why he suddenly feels like crying? Guess it’s just everything he’s bottled up, crashing on down. Bursting out of him all at once as he chokes on a sob. Coomer whispers sweet praise and gentle comforts, as he rubs the physicist’s back.

“It’s going to be okay, Gordon.”

**That’s a lie.**

It isn’t.

Not by any stretch of the word.

Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

But he wants to believe him so badly. Wishes selfishly that he’d had Coomer as a father. Known what it was like to be loved so conditionally earlier on in his life. Knowing full well that he’ll feel silly for slobbering and clinging to the older scientist later but doing it anyway because it feels right. Like he’s stable. That even as he collapses, Coomer will be there to help him rise back to his feet and pick up the pieces. They’d had such a rough rollercoaster of a relationship. Going from Coomer trying to brutally murder and beat him to death to openly crying in his arms and needing his reassurance. Desperate for validation and understanding.

Gordon gets a hold of himself after a bit, strangely glad that the access to water and rehydration made crying more messy but less awful somehow, as his tears flowed freely even after he’d settled down a tad. They returned to the cabin slowly. Coomer sharing sweet stories of Bubby’s antics and achievements.

They pull down the truck’s tailgate and sit in the back. Coomer kicking his dangling feet in the air as Gordon sits with his legs crossed further back in the truck bed. Head in his hands as he finishes his cry and wipes his face clear. He feels relieved honestly. If a bit  _ hollow _ . Cheeks flushed and nose stuffy.

“He’s a  **monster** . A fucking asshole that has only ever made my life  _ worse _ .” He spits, voice hoarse. Coomer just watches him from the side, letting him get it out, “He’s disgusting and sadistic and rude and terrible and I should  **hate** him.”

“But you don’t.” He chuckles. Gordon blows his nose and keeps quiet. “Bubby might have only grown up in an underground lab as a genetically altered superhuman but he still had his own difficulties assimilating to our way of things.”

“He  _ still  _ sets people on fire.”

“And he always will. Because it’s in his nature.” Coomer is quick to counter. Getting Gordon to shut up, “He’s made many changes over the years but if he changed completely he would no longer be the man I fell in love with, and it wouldn’t have been a choice made for his own benefit or continued happiness either.”

“Benrey is an alien. He’s not hiding it anymore. Who knows just how long he’s been pretending to be something he’s not. Never revealing himself for fear of persecution or rejection. If a laboratory is bad, can’t imagine another planet and entire reality. If they try to understand and adopt our customs, perhaps it’s only fair we do the same.”

“Like what?”

“Like giving Benrey a smooch for bringing in a kill or singing with him the next time he uses his Sweet Voice. You don’t have to go biting the heads off of rabbits or shooting people in the back, but you can try to at the very least see things from his perspective. It’s clear that his homeworld has an entirely different sense of morality and justice than our own. Not unlike the bowels of Black Mesa. The very plantlife was trying to kill us and their society seemed less interested in architecture or diplomacy.”

“I think he was tortured by humans.” He admits abruptly.

“Perhaps that’s why him and Bubby get along.”

“I don’t love him, Dr. Coomer… Maybe I could. But right now. I’m not ready. I need time,” Time they don’t have. That is ticking away, “What if he wants something, that I can’t give him?”

“Then you tell him and stay as friends or wherever you’re most comfortable. No one is saying you have to rush into marriage Gordon. Take it from me, you want to hold off on it.” He lightens the mood with a soft shove to the other’s arm. “But this yo-yoing of will they won’t they is driving Bubby mad. Benrey won’t stop whining his ear off.”

“He’s what?”

“Don’t tell either of them this since, Bubby made me promise not to tell, but apparently he talks about ‘mixed signals’ and a bunch of other things. Maybe you two have a lot more understanding for each other than you think.”

“He’s wild about you Gordon, even a blind man could see that. I don’t think he’d have saved us if you weren’t there leading the charge. He might be an idiot and a right prick at times, but he goes out of his way to try and make you laugh. If it’s what you want, what’s the harm in trying?”

**_“Dying.”_ ** He scoffs bluntly.

“We’re all gonna die anyway! And if Benrey’s going to be the one to do it, it’ll just be a quick speedrun to the final boss.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” They sit for a bit longer, a chill moving in. They should head back inside before it gets too late. Benrey  _ is  _ waiting for him. “Dr. Coomer?”

“Yes Gordon?”

“Even if it doesn’t work out. Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome Gordon. Just remember, you aren’t alone.”

  
  


Gordon lingers in the hallway to his designated room, a plain guest room with a modest queen sized bed. Having bid goodnight to Coomer and washed his face to try and hide the fact that he’d been crying. Letting his hair down. Taking a moment to marvel at how long it’d gotten before he stops procrastinating.

Benrey’s in one of his shorts and a hastily made tank top whose sleeves and collar are in jagged edges. Revealing the cut of his clavicle and much of his thick thighs. He’s posed on the bed. Head propped up in a hand and one leg bent as the other lies flat. Face blank as he greets Gordon.

“Bro I’ve been like this for an hour.” He’s monotone but Gordon can tell he’s teasing by the glint in his eyes. He’s feeling playful.

He laughs quietly, taking a seat on the bed and pushing him over onto his back, almost shoving him off the bed entirely, “Sorry. Me and Coomer were talking about math and got really into it. Tried to solve this problem we’d been working on when it came to the force needed to punch a hole through a tank.”

“You chose lame numbers over my epic bod? Feetman, I’m hurt.” He throws an arm over his eyes of emphasis, peeking out to check that Gordon’s looking at him, “And after I went through all the trouble of flossing for you!”

Had he really?

“Well then… Sorry to keep you waiting,” He feels the shift in the air instantly. Laying on the bed next to Benrey, turning his head to find his luminous eyes staring back. Just as they had in the motel. Only now, they’re alone and he isn’t as tense or afraid as he had been before. Catching a whiff of the lavender shampoo that was housed in the downstairs bathroom. Pleasant. Though he imagines Benrey smelling of gunpowder and metal usually. Perhaps just the association of him with Black Mesa. 

“What did I forget?”

“You have to promise… That you won’t hate me.” Benrey sounding so serious is odd, but he supposes the topic warrants it. He does appreciate that he’s not making light of things.

“Hate you for what?”

“For what I was and what I did.”

Well that’s. Gordon isn’t so sure. The return of that lingering doubt filling his mind. Benrey reaches for his hand but it’s Gordon who takes his first and squeezes it. Trying to find strength in Coomer and Darnold’s guidance. Some part of him, wants to  _ try _ . “... I promise.”

“I tried to kill you.”

_ Close your eyes. Count to ten. _

Gordon breaths.

_ Don’t be angry. Don’t make accusations or demand answers. He’s being honest. He’s trying as well, doing his best. _ What’s done is done. Benrey lets him process the information. Gordon opening his eyes to focus on the ceiling. "Okay… But why?"

  
  


* * *

_ His father reminds him of why this is so important.  _

_ What they’re fighting for. _

_ Reveals to him the truth kept from even his own pawns. _

_ The events that him and his employers had set into motion. _

_ Even with the meddling of a rogue entity that could never have been accounted for. _

_ He’s present in an eternal void before the creature that wore a face similar to his own. Tommy had ran, not knowing what else he could have hoped to do. Ran until his lungs burned and his feet ached. Till his knees gave out and he crashed into the continued stretch of nothing that surrounded him. Screaming and bawling into his arms and he tried to deny it.  _ **_Block it out._ **

_ This couldn’t be happening. _

_ There was nothing he could have done to prevent it. _

_ All he’d tried, all he’d been hoping for. Was it all just for nothing? _

_ His father is standing over him, offering a handkerchief and ruffling his hair as he sits up. Grin stretched across the mask of flesh he has firmly nailed in place, betrayed by the glow of his unblinking eyes, “Oh Tommy. You’ll… come, to understand….” _

_ He doesn’t want to understand. _

_ He doesn’t want to be only half human. _

**_Damn his father’s legacy and best laid plans._ **

_ Voice caught in his throat, still blinded by the tears in his eyes.  _

_ He grits his teeth and stands on uncertain knees. _

_ Demanding his father teach him how to infiltrate dreams and with a pleased arch of his brow, he nods and gestures for Tommy to follow him further into the space of his own making. Where the limitations of time and the matters of Earth can’t reach them. Not bothering to ask why? As Tommy’s sure he already knows the answer and is going to allow him to try and reach Gordon. _

_ Highlighting the  _ **_futility_ ** _ of it all. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep updating at 5am because its when things quiet and slow down rip.  
> Apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes from my tired brain.
> 
> Originally I was trying to be lowkey about Coomer and Bubby, letting people decide for themselves if they were platonic or not. But inspired by fanworks and such I said, eh fuck it and decided that it made more sense for Coomer's talk with Gordon to be from a shared perspective of 'normal human in love with someone raised outside of their society'. I also wanted to highlight some aspects of why I think Benrey and Bubby get along so well, besides sharing a sense of humour. They can actually empathize and relate to each other more than they can regular humans as outsiders.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this longer chapter, even if a lot was summarized.  
> If it needs to be clarified, Tommy's sections are not in line with the cabin timeline but left intentionally vague (tho you can piece it together).
> 
> Edit*** August 24, 2020.  
> I didn't realize that Coomer explaining his backstory to Gordon would be so upsetting and triggering. Apparently it put some people off and folks thought I was trying to romanticize or excuse what Bubby did on Coomer's wedding night.  
> No one told me.  
> No one messaged me or left a review, even on anon.  
> I literally had no idea because I thought I had made it clear that had Bubby and Coomer spoken immediately after, they could have healed and dealt with the entire scenario in a healthy manor rather than burying it. And no it wouldn't have made it okay for Bubby to kiss Coomer out of nowhere nor excuse physical violence like a slap but Bubby is a flawed character, he's not evil and it was not done out of malicious intent. It was a drunken mistake that Coomer never held against him. And it's based on me repairing and learning to forgive my family for vaguely similar things. Had Bubby and Coomer talked, Coomer would have left his actual abusive wife and they'd have eloped. There'd been mutual attraction and minor flirting beforehand, thus why Bubby felt lead on/fooled. It was a summary of events by an unreliable narrator who was trying to make a point. The tragedy was supposed to be that they weren't honest with each other or themselves. They didn't cope with any of their problems in a healthy way and it wasn't until as Coomer says, they finally sat down and had that moment of trust and vulnerability that it clicked into place. I was trying to impart onto both Gordon and the audience how important communication is. Forgiveness is up to the people who have been hurt, its an incredibly personal thing. Some people forgive while others don't, in this fic I show both and both are valid.
> 
> Regardless of my intent and what I thought I was conveying, I'm so sorry to anyone I upset or offended.  
> I fucked up.  
> I love horror, gore and villains but I never want to trigger someone. It's why I try to have tw's even though they spoil things. I'm always happy to listen if people want to give me negative reviews/constructive criticism or let me know that I need additional tw's. I don't know what can be upsetting to someone and I know I can overlook things.
> 
> I'll try to be more conscious and on top of things, but I can't fix my mistakes if no one tells me what I did wrong.
> 
> For me finding out came out of left field and I was so overwhelmed with anxiety and guilt I had a minor meltdown. I had no idea it was a problem. Why did no one reach out to me? I would have apologized and fixed it sooner. I would have known. Please don't be afraid to leave negative reviews,  
> I'm sorry if I hurt you by being careless.
> 
> I'm still going to continue with this fic and keep the parts I've already written for the next chapter, along with my plot outline. But I'll try to be better at tw's.  
> If anything becomes too intense or uncomfortable for you, please take care of yourself first and foremost and stay safe.
> 
> I will say preemptively that Benrey is extremely flawed and fucked up and I'm not excusing anything he does. He and other characters are bad people. This fic isn't about healthy people or super healthy relationships. In real life you shouldn't ever date someone that tried to kill you and being from a different culture doesn't excuse being abusive or harmful to others.  
> It should be obvious that I don't condone or excuse anything my characters do. I write serial killers and irredeemable villains. I've written and drawn cannibalism because I love horror and gore. If that's upsetting to you, I totally get it. I try to give folks a head's up so they can choose for themselves to see it.
> 
> For anyone reading this fic/chapter after the 24th the scene was originally Bubby kissed Coomer and than slapped him.


	7. I’m a man, I’m a twisted fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They wanted to try to train me. Thought if I was like a teenager, I could use some-” Benrey waves his hand around dramatically, “Discipline.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!trigger/content warning!!
> 
> For child abuse, child neglect, xenophobia and dehumanization, experiments/torture, children fighting/harming each other, miscommunication, attempted drowning, manipulation/emotional abuse/implied gaslighting and abuse in general.
> 
> I believe that is it, but please by all means do not hesitate to leave a review or message me letting me know if you think I need to add another warning.
> 
> -  
> Hey so, if you haven't read my edited end note on chapter 6 please go back and do so so we're all on the same page. (I also edited the beginning note to add an additional tw)  
> I wrote it when I was still in a very bad headspace so please excuse the tone if it's rather off and rambly.
> 
> I address it more in the end notes here too in a much better/stable frame of mind, cause I don't want to have too much text blocking off the top of this chapter. After this, I won't be acknowledging it further since it's done and dealt with.  
> this fic is going to continue with what I have planned. This chapter was broken up into two parts because it was becoming massive!  
> I'll be posting chapter 8 either tonight or tomorrow, sometime this weekend. I just need to do a bit more proof reading and finish off the end bit. (admittedly the proof reading of this chapter was a bit rushed so apologies for any real bad spelling or grammar mistakes)  
> Thank you so much to everyone for your patience, I hope this bit is enough to tide you over before we hit the meaty stuff in 8.
> 
> If you ever think things might be too intense or unsavory then please take care of yourself first and foremost and skip this fic  
> take care of yourselves and take care of each other

_ They met on a beach in the early morning. Gordon having ran from his mother when her back was turned, going past the yard towards the waters. To explore the dark rocks that caught and broke the humble waves. Searching for slugs or all manner of strange sea creatures that his imaginative mind could conjure up. Nevermind that this was a lake and not the ocean. _

_ He hadn’t been expecting to see eyes peek back up from between the cracks of a boulder he’d managed to climb. Not able to count that high to determine just how many eyes it was. Slit pupils focusing on him, unmoving. Reminding him of a kitty cat as they expanded. _

_ And childishly he’d stuck his hand right into the darkness below and grinned with missing teeth. Slurring out a hello and asking what their name was. _

_ The tendril that curled around his hand and wrist was cold.  _ **_Slimy_ ** _. But it didn’t pull or tug too tight. Simply curious. Returning the gesture. Flinching back and away as Gordon’s mother screamed at him to get off of there. Chastising him as he scrambled back to her side. Meeting the gaze of the dozens of eyes that watched him head back with his mom. Waving. All disappearing back to darkness when she’d turned in response to her son. Witnessing nothing but a delinquent child that grabbed for her hand. Pulling back when his was coated with something slick. _

_ - _

Benrey has his hands behind his head while Gordon’s rest on his stomach, subtlety rising with each slow intake of breath. Inwardly demanding his heart beat at a reasonable pace. The guard takes his time but the physicist is more than happy to keep quiet. Lost in his own turbulent thoughts concerning his friends’ advice and the acceptance of his attraction to Benrey, despite everything.

“So I guess I should start at the beginning… I mean, you were the first human... that wasn’t scared of me and who wasn’t mean. You asked for my name rather than demanding to know what I was. I didn’t have a name yet but I had yours… And that was pretty cool… Straight poggers.” He’s quiet. Bordering on a whisper. Low voice startling Gordon out of his wallowing and back to the present. Only to dive back into a forgotten past with Benrey as his guide, “Your mom yelled at you to get away from my spot. So I thought, hey... maybe you were like me."

“And what’s that?” He’s just as gentle with his voice. Terrified of overstepping or harming Benrey in some way by saying the wrong thing. Trying not to come across as pushy or demanding.

He thinks for a bit. Licking and smacking his lips anxiously. Teeth chewing on his bottom lip, peeling off bits of dry skin, “Don’t know word... that be best?” The sudden breaking of his English catches Gordon off guard but he hides any initial surprise. Waiting for him to offer more clues so he might try to help. Instead he mumbles off, “Imprisoned. Little. No fight. Beaten?”

“Persecuted?” He offers weakly. Benrey frowns, frustrated, but just shrugs next to him dismissively.

“Doesn’t matter.” Gordon nods in agreement and he carries on, “You came back. Found me again when I let you see. Didn’t scream or run away. Didn’t try to grab or hurt me. Different.”

He smiles and bumps Gordon with a leg. Snickering lightly, “You asked if I was a mermaid.”

“Were you?” He smiles back.

“Nah I couldn’t talk yet, otherwise I totally would have said yes and owned that shit. But I could give you things I’d found. You didn’t like dead things and threw back any fish I caught, but you liked the dope ass rocks and some of the human garbage. You brought me a pb&j and got a spanking trying to steal me a cookie once. Brought me a toy ship that you said I could have and things you thought I'd like, like glass orbs. It was Christmas time everyday motherfucker.”

"Marbles. You mean marbles."

"Huh? Sure.  _ Didn’t taste very good _ … But yeah anyway I could change, so I changed into you.” Benrey raises a hand over them and before Gordon’s eyes the skin ripples. Like snakes coiling beneath the flesh. The anatomy of his arm and hand, along with the hue and hair, all shifting from Benrey’s to Gordon’s. He stares. Raising his own hand to compare. It’s mirrored. Being Benrey’s right to his left. But it’s the same skintone and everything. From his nail length to the scar enveloping his right forearm. Moles all there. As if Benrey had thought about every possible little detail.

It lowers, shifting back to what was entirely his own, fingers flexing before obsidian claws clicked against each other. Falling to rest on his chest. “You thought it was cool. Very first thing you did when you realized it was me, was give me a hug. Then you tried to lecture me on wearing clothes. So I just copied whatever you were wearing that day. Later you mentioned that you liked girls with long hair, so I made mine long. Too long. But you enjoyed playing with it. I wanted you to like me too.”

“We’d play in the mud and in the sand for hours. And when you didn’t come, I’d be sad. Bored. Hide until you came back. Started to learn things from you that I didn’t from the doctors. Like talking and words. The Vortigaunts didn’t speak like you did, their language was intermixed with so much more. They thought and I’d just know, I’d  _ feel _ what they felt and what they intended. They were always honest. Humans were strange. Your minds were closed off but mouths always open. Before you, it was all just  **_noise_ ** .”

Gordon’s eyes are likely as wide as was physically possible. Just staring at the guard from the corner of his eye as to not react too harshly to him just casually name dropping what the alien’s were called. Like it was common information. Guess they’d been on the right track with their other V names. 

“But you couldn’t talk for shit so it wasn’t any easier to translate. But I tried. I could at least learn your name and a few words. I wanted a name too. You couldn't pronounce it. Called me Benny like a clumsy lil loser."

“It wasn’t all fun and games though was it?” He’s curious to know where exactly ‘Benrey’ came from but stays on track. Keeping Benrey focused.

“I never let your parents see me. They didn’t think I was real.”

“An imaginary friend.”

“Your mom would lie and say that I had said certain things. And when you let me into your house, anything I broke or ate was blamed on you. I didn’t like seeing you cry. So I pushed her down the stairs once hoping she’d break her neck. She was carrying a vase, and fell on the shattered glass. But lived… I should have made her swallow it.” Benrey’s voice rumbles. Gordon trying to recall any instance of his mother mentioning something like that or any scars. “I didn’t kill her, because you started crying. Screaming at her to wake up. Fuckin sucked.”

“You showed me your books and the pictures. I made my teeth sharp because I thought it looked cool, felt -uuuh,  _ natural _ . But when you found out I hurt your mom, you were pretty mad at me. Not so epic. Then I kept you on the beach past sundown. Wouldn’t let you leave. I didn’t want you to go back. And you were grounded. So after a few days of being gone, I just went through your window when I got tired of waiting and you were madder at me than ever.”

“You yelled at me and said I was a monster, like the ones from your books and games. But I was stupid and didn’t leave. You tried to hit me, I didn’t even think, I just bit your arm like you were one of the doctors. Then you started screaming louder than I’d ever heard you scream before and even though I’d tasted your blood, I didn’t want to eat you. I broke through the glass window so your dad wouldn’t see me and ran back to my hiding spot. I think that was the first time I cried. And like an idiot I didn’t know why.”

“Don’t call yourself an idiot.” He says firmly. Benrey turns to him, moving onto his side. Reaching over and catching himself. Letting his hand fall to the bed between them. Making Gordon frown as the alien glances off to the side and smirks with a tinge of sadness.

“Your parents were so spooked they wanted to move. You came to say goodbye, had to explain to me what that meant and that you’d never come back. That you’d never play with me again. I thought I could fix things, if we just lived in the water. Away from everyone else. Just the two of us.”

_ Oh god… _

“I dragged you, kicking and screaming, into the lake. I didn’t get that humans needed to breathe! Cringe lungs. I only realized something was wrong, when you started to choke but by then it was too late. Another human saw you and jumped in, pulling you away from me. I let him. I knew something was wrong. Your parents and him got the water out. Pretty sure your dad saw me, I watched as they took you away. At some point after that I finally screamed, and I think that’s how they found me again.”

“Who found you?” He’s whispering. Benrey blinks slowly.

“You already know.”

He does. The same people trying to kill them.

“But they weren’t expecting a kid. Really threw them off I guess. Having a face and hands. They had to remake my cage when we got back, even gave me clothes and a couple toys. Things I could draw with. Tried to keep me entertained so I wouldn’t try to get out again. Then the man in the suit came, the one that made Tommy. Said a bunch of dumb cryptic bullshit. Wanted to know who you were, but I refused. I wasn’t  _ that  _ stupid. He told me his name, and asked me for mine.”

Some questions answered, but so many more follow.

Gordon muses over it all for a bit before asking outright, “What did the doctors do to you Benrey?”

His expression remains passive, “Do you want the long or the short version?”

_ “Please-” _

“They experimented on me for I dunno how many years man. Back before I even had the same understanding of how time worked. What else do you want me to say? They shot raw energy through my body to see if I’d burn from the inside out. Dunked me in acid. All that. Tested and tried to learn everything they could about how I’d heal and when I’d come back to life. Needed samples. Ran tests. You know how they do in Mesa, well they weren't so different."

“Did it get better when you looked human?”

“You know it didn’t… They even accused me of faking it. Like my screaming wasn't real but I could always feel pain. I just knew how to voice it finally in a way they’d understand.”

“Bastards!” Gordon presses his palms against his eyelids. Grinding his teeth, “Benrey I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t.” He’s stern now. Gordon’s hands fall back to the bed as he tries to keep his emotions under control. Not let his strong heart get the better of him. Counting and breathing like Emily had tried teaching him so long ago, “Don’t do that.”

“You know I’ve killed people for less.” That’s true, but it still doesn’t seem right. Is he confusing sympathy with pity? “If it was the Vortigaunts and a human, I’d have watched as they took it apart and ate the pieces.”

“That’s **_fucked.”_ **

“Well I ate the doctors when I escaped the first time."

How the fuck is Gordon even supposed to react to that.

“Is eating other things on Xen normal?”

“Isn't it on Earth? You just raise your prey in cages and make them breed… Humans think they're special. You're still just meat and blood."

Gordon isn’t sure where to go with that. With any of this. But he can’t exactly walk away from this now. But he redirects to go back on track, “When you saw me at Black Mesa and then when we were all in Xen, you were mad when I didn’t remember you right?”

“Mhmm. And I saw your dick and you forgot your passport so I had to follow you. Had to make sure my friend didn’t beat you up and that you didn’t steal anything.”

He lets out a sigh of frustration which makes Benrey snicker. At least he doesn’t seem too down from recounting his past. It seemed traumatic, perhaps this was Benrey’s way of coping with it. Since it was clear that it did bother him on some level. Gordon wasn’t the right person to talk about this with. All he could do was express his sympathies and try not to let the alien shit get to him or distract from the real topics at hand. But that had to count for something? He hoped it did.

“Gordon.”

He’s noticing a pattern.

“Yeah Benrey?”

“Are you scared of me?”

He sits up, Benrey follows him with his eyes. Gordon’s an open book. Floundering for a moment before he falls onto his side with a bounce, closer to the alien who raises his brows a bit. He finds his own truth and doesn’t allow himself to look away from Benrey’s eyes. “Sometimes. When you do things that catch me by surprise or that, make my human body react. I guess if you’re a predator, humans are prey. You get that metaphor right? What it means?”

“Humans  _ are  _ prey.”

“You’re not helping.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. Trying again. “I know. I know logically that you can hurt me. You could kill me in so many horrific ways I could have nightmares over it for weeks. And I did! I had nightmares of you killing me on Xen or as a skeleton a lot, when we got out of Mesa. You took down a bear, you could snap my neck or rip out my throat and like you said. There isn’t anything I could do to stop you. But I know.” He inhales and exhales slowly. “I know you won’t. At least. Not until you think it’s the time for me to die. Which I’m hoping isn’t until I’m super old and about to die anyway.”

“So my brain knows that you won’t try to intentionally hurt me, not anymore. But my body doesn’t.”

He seems to like that answer more than Gordon expected him too. Head tilted as he just stared at Gordon in what he thinks is a fond manner before allowing his eyes to trail down his body, making his cheeks flush and teeth catch his lower lip. “Your body hasn’t learned yet…? Can we teach it?"

“Maybe.”

“Can I kiss you _ now?” _

“Yeah,” He breaths, saying it dumbly.

Benrey crawls on top of him, clawed hands on his jaw as he smashes their lips together aggressively. Trilling excitedly as Gordon for the first time kisses him back. A hand in his dark messy hair directing Benrey’s head to deepen the kiss. Following suit, he grabs Gordon's hair and tugs lightly. Getting his fingers tangled in the rich strands.

Gordon breaks the kiss relatively quickly and apologizes with a peck to the corner of a fanged mouth and his boney cheek. They hadn’t seen Bone-rey in quite a while huh? Nor any of the other skeletons. He’d need to ask why later. Since Benrey seemed eager to share now, when given enough time to piece his words and thoughts together beforehand.

Benrey licks across his lips and Gordon pushes on his chest. He raises back a bit, looking confused and frustrated but Gordon quickly explains, “If you use your tongue you can’t push it all the way back or I’ll gag. And I need to breathe, remember.”

**“Lame.”**

He responds with another kiss, slower and softer this time. Not letting Benrey get too carried away. He’s pleased that he seems to catch on quickly, letting Gordon lead the way. When they part again Gordon turns his head to the side to lightly pant. Benrey nuzzling his face against his bared throat. “You’re not really experienced in kissing are you?”

“Never felt like this for anyone but you,” He purrs. A solid weight over Gordon as he kisses under his jaw. The admission made something in the man’s chest swell, cheeks growing hotter.

He pushes himself up onto his arms and grins, especially wicked with those teeth, “Not to be too gay or anything. But you’re really hot right now.”

Gordon pushes him off gently with a huffing laugh. Commanding his face to stop being so red. Benrey bumps their foreheads together. Hands back in his hair before trailing down over his shoulder to his side. Settling on his thigh. Gordon reaches to push Benrey's uneven fringe out of his eyes. Resting a palm on his own flushed cheek.

"I wish," he whispers in the space between them. "That things were different… That they were normal."

"Normal's just a setting on a dishwasher."

Gordon wheezes and groans.

But Benrey offers in return, "I wish I'd never lost you… that I was better."

"You were a kid. We all do stupid shit. You make mistakes. You learn. You get better. It's human nature. Maybe it's Vontigate nature too."

"I'm not Vortigaunt."

He shouldn't but he does. "What are you?"

"I dunno… You call me God. Vortigaunts had something kinda similar? Languages are weird and English is stupid. But I suppose that's what I am."

"Not much of an Atheist am I, believing in a god."

_ "What?" _

"Nothing. Lame joke."

"... Do you think..." He goes a deep flushed hue. Cool blush spreading across his sharp cheeks. The hand on his thigh moving cautiously. Biting his lip and refusing to meet Gordon's eyes, "Do you think we could do more than kiss?"

"Like **_what?"_ **

He's almost scared to ask yet morbidly curious.

Benrey's quiet for quite a bit as Gordon reminds himself to be patient. "Can we…  _ uh _ . Do that thing like at the hotel?"

"Oh? Cuddle?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  _ Yeah?" _

"Yeah. Yeah that's okay."

It's a little awkward having to get up. He feels Benrey's eyes caressing his skin as he dresses down for bed. Boxers and today’s shirt. Good enough for him. Before getting under the covers and switching off the light. Benrey slides in next to him and when their legs or arms brush up against each other, he's cool to the touch. Making Gordon shiver when they meet in the middle. He tucks his head under the alien's chin. An arm thrown over him, hand idly moving up and down along his back. Benrey trills again. An odd sound from the back of his throat before he's hooking his leg over Gordon's hip and breathing in his hair. Awkward but not painfully uncomfortable.

Benrey still smells of the dove shampoo and rose body wash from the shower, but beneath that he can catch something else. Something he can't place but finds strangely familiar.

As before, there’s something comforting in the other’s presence. His breathing slow and steady, as if practiced. Strong heart of his speeding up tellingly against his other hand which rests between them, just from Gordon squirming to get more comfortable. As his own mind begins to wander, eyes closing, he stifles a laugh when fingers run through his hair. Claws scratching pleasantly against his scalp.

Yeah. This. This is okay. He can handle this.

_ They weren’t and then they were. _

_ Floating through the nebulous void that surrounded the asteroids and floating islands of the sought after border world. The plane or realm of existence known simply as Xen that allowed the crossing between dimensions. But the being that would become Benrey didn’t know that, nor did they care. _

_ Time meant nothing. But eventually they watched as the barren land was rife with plantlife and insects, spawning seemingly from the scattered pools of water. Tiny things that they examined and fauna that reacted to their presence. Either moving towards or away. Then came the animals. The beasts. Until a flourishing ecosystem spanned across the entirety of their home. Creatures feeding on one another, they followed suit. Delighting in the hunt and the chase. _

_ In the pain that came from acidic spit and ichor that would flow from deep lasherations. _

_ Appreciating the taste and thrill of their prey. _

_ They would sleep for months or years at a time. Some species changed while others remained static. They found their own form to be fluid. Shifting and altering to its environment and will. Content with the state of things for a time when the sky was torn open by some unseen force, and the refugees filtered in enmass to escape their pursuers. _

_ They merely observed at first. As these new creatures walked upright on two legs and communicated in a way they’d not seen before. They explored and established some sort of order. Those deemed weak, forced to build strange structures of new substances. Then sent to mine and collect various resources from the islands. Discovering the properties of healing pools and the powers offered by Xen’s naturally forming crystals. Using it all to their advantage. _

_ A large beast that spawned many tiny offspring burrowed and made its nest. _

_ The presumed leader of the rest hid itself away once it’s foundations were built and the land settled. _

_ They were fascinated by the technology and weapons. The metals and objects. Slithering and slinking about homes and factories to explore. Witnessed by many who either cowered or attempted to apprehend or kill. _

_ They watched as the large brutes beat those who did not fight back and when spotted this time, pounced. It’s flesh tasted strange but not unpleasant and in it’s death the weaker individuals attempted to communicate. Reaching towards them with their minds and very essence. _

_ They felt their pain. Their suffering. _

_ Knew then their plight and terror, as if it was their own. _

_ A catalyst for their emotion and desire for vengeance, until it overtook their senses. _

_ Overwhelmed their mind. _

_ Until it set it’s many eyes on the tower they had built upon its once sacred land and set about to crush their budding empire. To tear out the heart of it from within and feast on the spoils on their failed conquest. _

  
  


He’s jolted out of a nightmare, hands shaking as he reached for his glasses. Taking several minutes to come down from the grotesque imagery that lingers at the back of his mind. It’s light outside and he finds the space next to him is empty, lacking one bratty immortal, which gives him pause. Unsure if what he’s experiencing is relief or disappointment. Not dwelling on it as he quickly gets dressed and heads for the kitchen. Pouring himself a glass of Darnold approved filtered water when the silence dawns on him.

It’s uncomfortably quiet for the gang of rambunctious scientists.

He finds them out back after a bit of searching, faltering in his steps when he realizes Benrey’s flanked by a lone Peeper Puppy. He’s seated on the grass, staring deeply into the creature’s numerous blinking eyes. The peeper is seated, like a dog. Occasionally shifting its weight and appearing to quirk what Gordon assumes he just has to call it’s head. Benrey likewise mimicking the motion.

As he nears he spots the other beasts, dead in pools of corressive looking blood. Bubby and Coomer inspect an Octo Cow while Darnold seems to be collecting the various liquids in what containers he can. Appearing enamoured when examining a bottle of green sludge, even with the label torn off Gordon spots that it was for coke originally.

“Looks like I missed all the action.” He greets a tad stiffly.

Benrey looks at him and breaks line of sight with the peeper. Triggering something as it rises and begins to rumble, air around it’s round body beginning to distort before stopping abruptly when Benrey turns back around. Causing it to whine in a manner so shockingly like a dog that it draws Darnold’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s been staring at that thing for like twenty minutes,” Bubby wipes his hands on his pants and meets Gordon halfway. Raising a brow in the alien’s direction, “Wouldn’t let us kill it. If we get shocked or blasted it’ll be on your head, and I get to say I told you so.”

Benrey falls back, spreading out on the ground. Head leaning back as he gazes up at the two. The peeper thankfully doesn’t become aggressive despite losing his attention instead mimicking the action by spinning once and laying on the ground on it’s wide stomach. Looking between the two scientists. “It reminded me of Tommy. Sides. We could use a mascot. Everyone’s gotta have the cute animal sidekick. That’s where all the merchandising is.”

Gordon catches the look of concern that flashes across Bubby’s aged features at the mention of their missing member before he’s changing the topic. “Coomer was watering the plants and suddenly these things popped outta nowhere. Thankfully no one was hurt and we kept them from doing any serious damage to the house. What the hell were you doing in the meantime?”

“I was sleeping?” He shrugs and is only a tad defensive.

“You slept through all that noise?” Darnold joins them. Various bottles and tupperware filled with samples for his potions and discoveries. “Must have been a pretty good sleep.”

His lips twist into a grimace and Darnold winces in immediate sympathy. Gordon deflecting, “Guess I was just that tired.” Unsure if he should be glad or not that he’d managed to get that comfortable, when back in his cell he’d flinch awake from any odd creak or shift in the air.

Gordon and Bubby help Darnold with the new materials. Labelling everything in thick sharpie and sharing their hypotheses as they contemplated the evolution of the alien creatures in their native environment. Coomer and Benrey burying the bodies. Coomer waving off Darnold’s concerns that their decomposition could have a negative effect on the soil and local species. When Bubby suggests Benrey could have eaten them he sticks out his thick tongue and fake gags.

Mumbling something about chicken for every meal. When Darnold looks to him for clarification he just gestures that he has no idea. Bubby just outright abandons their talk to follow Benrey to the entertainment room, his obnoxious laughter filtering through the door before it closes upstairs.

To put it bluntly, he was buttering Benrey up cause as soon as Coomer’s good to go the rest head upstairs. The guard’s playful demeanor falling to one of uncomfortable fidgeting. He’s put in the computer’s office chair, idly spinning back and forth in front of the tv as the other’s take to the couch and armchair. Getting settled despite the growing tension before Benrey grins lazily and jeers, “Welcome to my TEDtalk, I’m Doctor Sex. I got my degree at the university of keepin it real~.”

“It’s illegal to impersonate a doctor you know,” Bubby teases and Benrey’s smile softens a bit at the edges before his eyes flicker to Gordon, then to Coomer as he begins.

“Did you have a part in the Resonance Cascade?” Back to his serious tone. Gordon wonders how he turns it on and off so deliberately, going from joyful to downright terrifying in seconds.

“No.” Benrey’s already looking frustrated and bored and they’ve only just begun. “At least I don’t think so? If I did it wasn’t on purpose. Sometimes things just. Happen.”

Gordon presses further, Benrey glaring at him weakly as he asks. “Did you know the test was going to be sabotaged beforehand?”

“... I knew something wasn’t right. But I wasn’t expecting  **_that_ ** .”

“What do you have against Tommy’s father, Mr. Coolatta?”

Benrey’s eyes darken, arms folding over his chest as he closes himself off. He’s quiet for a bit, Gordon holding a hand to keep the other’s at bay as he takes his time with it. “When I met him as a kid. He said I was ruined. That I wasn’t supposed to change yet and that I’d caused a whole lotta trouble. That I was an um. Screwdriver?”

“Wrench?” He offers gently. Benrey nods.

“Wrench in his plans.” He falls quiet again before adding, “Except we weren’t talking like this…… He said he could help me, but I needed to tell him…” His lips smack loudly, “uh, tell him my cheat codes. Yeah. I didn’t tell’im though.”

“Benrey…”

His eyes are pleading but Gordon doesn’t waver. He crumbles quickly, sighing heavily. “He wanted to know what I did to Nihilanth.”

“And what did you do?”

“I don’t know? I must have killed them? I wasn’t really interested in doing much else in Xen. I didn’t have any goals yet other than like. Live and eat. **”** He notes the hesitant way Benrey seems to gauge his reaction. Though none of them know what a Nihilanth is. Despite that, he keeps going.

“I also hate him because he’s the reason all my friends are dead. And he tried to get you to kill kill me  _ soooooo _ . You really shouldn’t trust him no matter how good the party is. Whatever he’s doing to Xen can’t be any fuckin good.”

Benrey knew about the birthday party? Well that was a tad awkward. But thinking back Gordon isn’t surprised and can piece much of it together like Mr. Coolatta staring at something he couldn’t see at the time. Despite warming up to the guard his suspicion and doubts are immediate. Eyes narrowing as he scrutinizes the other, “We were told if we killed the powerful entity on the other side that the Cascade would stop? He seemed to want to help us and you were kind of in a murder frenzy and acting super weird and guilty.”

“Did they stop though? I wasn’t the one opening portals. I haven’t been in Xen in I don’t know how long. At least since long before I met you.”

“Probably at least thirty years then.”

“I wasn’t doing that and it’s still happening.”

“Well to be fair we haven’t actually killed killed you.” Coomer offers in his pleasantly morbid fashion. Benrey glares at him but it doesn’t hold any real heat.

“It was a set up.” That again. Gordon swallows the lump forming in his throat, “He sabotaged the test or knew it was going to happen. Must’ve known we’d all wind up together. That’s why they sent Forzen. We were like finger puppets, tangled in our webs.” No one corrects him that it’s marionettes and strings, “You killed me, like he wanted. So I guess whatever I had on Xen did expire. ‘Cept I wasn’t super dead and respawned.”

“And that’s why they came after us,” Bubby theorizes aloud. Benrey nodded with a rise of his shoulders, “The job wasn’t finished.”

Gordon’s stomach drops a tad. He feels like. Like he’s missing  _ something _ . It’s on the tip of his tongue. And he mulls on it as the others ask Benrey about various things. Many of which he simply doesn’t know or gives a noncommittal answer, but he does brush over his apparent abduction from Xen and imprisonment as a test subject. 

Gordon can’t stop thinking about what Tommy had said in his dreams. Playing it over in his head, or at least what he can remember. Feeling unreliable as he struggles to imagine the scene in its entirety.

He should focus on one thing at a time, so he cuts in when there’s an opening. “How do you know Forzen?”

Benrey throws his head back and scowls, brows narrowed and knitted together as the lines in his face harshen. Fanged teeth and discoloured gums all exposed as he huffs and abruptly sits straight. Arms resting on his legs. Looking off at nothing rather than meeting the physicist’s stern gaze, “He was… used to be, my best friend."

_. _

_ They are comfortable in their chosen home. Out in the wilds where occasionally they will be visited by those bearing gifts and praise, but whom for most times is left to their own devices. Climbing large tree-like structures and exploring the deep waters. Without a care. _

_ They’d felt another tear, this one much smaller in size and scale, not far. And then another. And another. Until one slightly larger was pulled open and something came through. _

_ Curiously keeping watch as a single figure in an exoskeleton of bright colours took uncertain steps into Xen. Speaking some strange new tongue as it moved hesitantly forward. It was a short time before it moved back. The next one appeared, it was accompanied. They took stock of the environment. Waving around odd devices and leaving others behind. _

_ They’d stolen one or two. Such as a small tower that produced light or a rectangle that when torn open was filled with strange components. All of which tasted awful. _

_ These new creatures took their time, as opposed to the others. Not running from something. But discovering. _

_ They’d been amused when what they’d later know were humans, ended up getting themselves killed. The first by a barnacle, that bit straight through the shrieking man’s helmet. Another was a woman whose first issue jets weren’t strong enough to carry her from one asteroid to another. Her crew unable to reach her as she fell into the void of space beneath them. _

_ They’d collected her body after. _

_ To examine the exoskeleton and armour she wore, then the body that was hidden underneath. Kicking her to the Bull Squids when growing bored. _

_ An error on their part. They hadn’t realized, nor could have known, that her equipment was still active. And in doing so it had revealed the location of it’s sanctuary to these would be invaders. _

_ They’d seen it take specisims. Putting them in cages, alive and dead. To take back through the portal in which they’d come. But it had never considered that getting captured was possible as no such thing had ever occurred in its existence. _

_ A trap. Insulting in its simplicity. But that worked non the less. _

_ As they were trapped. Held within the confines of a box whose edges were electrified. Carried through. Examined. Poked and prodded. Put from one box to another, that despite their desperation they could not exit. Forming claws to try and pierce strange new materials. Shrinking down to try to squeeze out of any gaps. Settling in a corner, nothing but withering limbs and tendrils, as the experiments began. _

-

“They wanted to try to train me. Thought if I was like a teenager, I could use some-” Benrey waves his hand around dramatically, **“Discipline.”**

“Forzen and the others were brought in. Instead of the usual, they tried to show me how to do things like fight and shoot a gun. Forzen. He was like you,” He looks at Gordon who nods in understanding. Explaining for the others present, “He was different. He talked to me, like I was human. Like I was one of their team. He used my name. Asked me questions no one had ever asked before.”

“When I hit every target he complimented me on it. It felt,  _ nice _ . When I almost killed someone in combat, he asked me not to do it and. After he asked I didn’t want to anymore, so I didn’t.”

“The doctors even let him visit me on off days. Let him bring in items so we could read comics and play new games they hadn’t approved of. Like Smash. And then we started watching movies. It was like. He wanted to be there for  _ me _ . That he liked spending time with me, like Freeman used to. I was happy. I wanted to make him proud so I got better at what they wanted from me. I even started letting them take samples and whatever else they wanted if it meant I’d get more off days with Forzen.”

He falls quiet. Eyes cast to the floor. Gordon offers a gentle prompt before someone else can interject or push him forward,  _ “What happened?” _

“They took parts of my body, like blood, and were putting it into people. It was killing them.  **Obviously** . But they must’ve known somehow that because I liked Forzen, because I didn’t want to kill him- That he’d survive whatever they did. Or maybe they just guessed. I dunno. To make sure they had us fight and he didn’t hold back that time. He won, because I refused to kill him. Even after he buried his knife into my face. He said it was just because they ordered him to and I wanted to believe him but-”

Gordon already knows where this is going, glancing at the other’s they seem to be on the same track. Benrey doubles over in the chair. Hiding his face behind his hands. His back ripples, as his skin had last night, two more pairs of arms ripping from his shoulders blades. New hands fisting and pulling at his hair. Ripping out entire chucks of dark strands.

“So start to think, right? Hey. What if. Be my friend? An order too? Forzen was not as far to age as others. Forzen first to be like Gordon. Different method maybe? Don’t know.”

He sighs. Seems to get a better hold of himself. Peeking through his fingers, they can see more shining eyes between the gaps. “He didn’t die but he changed. Whatever they did to him.  **_Fucked him up._ ** Doctors blamed me for it. Didn’t mean to. Couldn’t stay. I was so mad I just wanted them to burn. Weren’t worth eating. Had to pay. Had to feel my pain.”

Like the Vortigaunts’ desire for vengeance, but this one was entirely his own.

“Forzen tried to stop me from leaving. Tried to talk. I didn’t want to listen anymore. Tommy’s dad found me. Offered to let me in on a secret if I promised to stay hidden. Keep to myself.”

“What was the secret?” Buddy speaks up.

Benrey stands and like liquid the additional limbs fall from his back, fading from view and existence itself before hitting the floor in a splash. He’s still got too many eyes cluttering his face, the seams of his mouth torn at the edges.

“That I had a friend,” His expression falls further. Hands brought at his front to pull and grab at each other, “I just had to find him. He was talking about Tommy. Who I found at Mesa, along with Gordon and everyone else. Know now, that he probably just wanted me there.”

“I’m not good at talking.” He says abruptly. “Or at explaining.”

“You’re doing fine!” Darnold is the first to offer.

Commer and Bubby follow up the sentiment with their own encouragement.

Gordon gave a strong nod and scooted over on the couch to pat the seat beside him. Benrey takes his time to wander over and fall in next to the physicist. Immediately falling over to rest his head on the man’s shoulder, “We understand. It’s hard to talk about stuff like this, even for us. You did good.”

“Thank you,” Darnold continues, “For being honest with us.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Gordon raising a hand to rub Benrey’s arm. Effectively holding the alien against his side. Bubby’s the one who breaks the silence this time getting up to move the office chair and falling to his knees to begin looking through the homeowner’s small movie collection for something to watch. Everyone begins to debate about what movie to choose, Benrey painfully absent from the discussion. They settle on a comedy and Bubby’s back to his seat after he sets up the dvd player and hits play.

Everyone taking a break for the time being, plenty of questions left unanswered. At least now they have a better idea of where Benrey stands in all of this.

Not some grand mastermind.

Just another clueless bystander, like the rest of them.

After the movie Gordon asks Benrey if he can see the future like seemingly Mr. Coolatta can, and he responds with a firm no. Explaining then if he knew what was going to happen, he’d have confronted Gordon a long time ago and gotten the courage to tell him everything before it all went to hell.

But he does add hesitantly, that something feels  **_wrong_ ** . Call it instincts or intuition, Bubby states that they should heed the warning and be on guard. Prepare for anything that life might throw at them next.

The rest of the day is spent playing Monopoly, explaining to Benrey how the economy works to his growing frustration and annoyance. At some point Gordon and Coomer get into a heated argument about hotels, Bubby ends up winning and he’s quite the sore winner at that. Gordon declares that he’s going to shave, beard getting a tad too long for his tastes. Coomer follows the sentiment while running a hand through his hair.

Turns out Bubby actually isn’t the worst with a pair of scissors. Making an offhand comment about having to cut his own hair back in the day, to which Coomer is quick to explain in great detail how spectacular Bubby looked in his youth. Bubby in turn revealed that Coomer had been ginger before going grey.

As he cut Coomer’s hair while Darnold shaved, Benrey pulled Gordon aside.

Muttering under his breath.

“What?”

He clicked his tongue and straightened out, “Don’t cut hair, please.”

_ “Huh?” _

The look Benrey shoots him makes him blink and quirk his head. Until it clicks. “Oh?! You. You like me with long hair?”

He nods stiffly and to prove his point, pushes it out of Gordon’s face. “Looks… um. Neat.”

“Thanks.” He deadpans. Benrey pouts but Gordon’s quick to pat his arm and lightly push him off. Giving a sigh as he runs a hand through said long hair. It has quite the volume he supposes. He thinks it makes him look a tad too feminine or hippie like and if not pulled back, is quick to get into his eyes and tickle his face. But… It is rather exotic looking isn’t it? Or maybe he’s just thinking too hard about it.

Giving himself a long look in the mirror, turning this way and that.

It really isn’t that bad is it? He asks Darnold if it suits him and can’t help the wheezing laugh that escapes him at a rather blunt, “Oh yeah. So long as you don’t turn it into a mullet.”

“I think it’s rather cute, Gordon.” Coomer pipes up. Gordon smiles at his reflection and asks Bubby just to clean it up a bit. When he glances at Benrey, his lips might be their usual tight line but his eyes are ecstatic.

Having no words for when Gordon takes the razor to his face. He goes back to what feels natural. His standard 90s inspired goatee. All cleaned up and looking like he’s back to normal, relatively speaking. He’s lost weight, face looking a tad sharper than what he was used to but it’s not as severe as he might have feared. The bags under his eyes have lightened up considerably and though he takes into account several new grey hairs intermixed with the rest. A glance at the other men dispels any worries he might hold about beginning to show his age.

Darnold’s rocking that salt and pepper look, while Bubby and Coomer are as white and silver as one can get while still having more energy than Gordon it seems some days.

So what if he’s going grey early? He’s been through enough that he warrants it.

Benrey follows him to bed again that night as he retires a tad early. Darnold shooting the physicist a gentle smile as they leave the rest to it. As they lay in the dark under the covers, Benrey tells Gordon more details about their adventures as children. How they’d sit in the shallows as Benrey brought him all manner of things to see and name for him. Or how they’d play thrilling games of hide and seek.

Relentlessly teasing and making Gordon laugh as the night carried on and came to an end. The Pepper Puppy left outside, tied to a stake with a bowl of food and water and even a blanket for it to lie down on. All on Benrey’s insistence about the merch potential.

He dreams of nothing and when he wakes up, Benrey is simply watching his face. He jolts for a moment before offering a lazy hello. Benrey just tells him how much he drools in his sleep, making him snort and subconsciously wipe his mouth. Earning a wide playfully vicious grin.

Gordon notes the marks on the other’s skin as they get up and get dressed. Switching the light back off to confirm that he’s got a bioluminescent pattern spread across his back and shoulders that’s trailing all the way to his forearms. Accenting his sharp cheekbones and throat like strange shaped freckles or stripes. He isn’t sure how to bring it up, flicking the light back on when Benrey glances back at him.

Mulling over how best to approach the subject when Coomer leaps up from the dining table at breakfast to point at him and state the obvious, “Benjamin you’ve got something on your face!”

“Who? Oh shit me?” He scratches at his chin and screws his eyebrows. Darnold nods. He then promptly gets up and walks into the bathroom. An audible ‘huh’ following before he’s back and returning to eating his food completely unbothered. A minute dragging agonizingly bye while the science team waits for an explanation that doesn’t come.

Bubby then presses,  _ “Well?” _

“Oh. Right. Guess it happened while I was sleeping.”

“Do you think that has something to do with what you were telling me earlier? About feeling different and getting stronger since visiting Xen?”

“Could be. Or it could be because I don’t need to hide right now. Who knows. Does it matter? Humans colour their hair and put metal in their skin. Same thing right?” He waves his fork about and seemingly finished, takes the rest of his plate to give to the Pepper Puppy outside. The humans watching from the windows and glass door as he rubs the creature’s back while it eats.

Gordon isn’t so sure.

Darnold’s face twists into one of discomfort as he adds, “It has a beak?”

Bubby nods, musing on how strange it’s anatomy is for what is practically a type of canine. Wondering aloud about what a cat from Xen might look like. Allowing all of their imaginations to run wild.

_ He’s hiding in the corner of his room. _

_ Well, it’s a cage. A box. A cell. Whatever you want to call it. But Forzen, always addressed by his code name because he’d admitted to Benrey that like his own moniker his real name just doesn’t feel right, calls it his room and it’s easier to think of it like that. Like there’s a trace of normalcy in this fucked up situation. _

_ That like the videos and images he was shown, they were just normal teenagers getting ready for a dance or tournament. Benrey awed when Forzen told him that there were gaming tournaments for video games too. Suggesting that maybe someday Benrey could be the top Melee player in the entire universe. Fuck even multiverse if he got good enough. _

_ Today’s just like any other since this shit began. Except he’s in one of his moods. Refusing to come out and play along. To the increasing frustration of the soldiers and doctors who tried offering him all sorts of things for his compliance. _

_ It doesn’t take long for Forzen himself to show up, taking a seat next to where Benrey’s sitting in the corner. Asking him passively if he’s alright. Nodding in understanding and sympathy when the alien relays to him what the surgeons had taken this time. Unable to stop the wince when Benrey lifted up his shirt to show the fresh scar, already beginning to fade but spanning the entirety of his abdomen. _

_ He spurs Benrey into a rant and after several minutes of expressing his frustrations and discomfort, furious that they continued to refuse to use the name he’d given himself, he burns himself out eventually. The two settling into grumbling about the adults in their lives and how fucked up everything was. _

_ It reminds Benrey of those movies he’d seen again, prompting him to ask if Forzen could request that they have something new to watch upon their next bit of downtime. _

_ Forzen has something better in mind. _

_ Leaving, though he’s not gone for long. _

_ They’d approved it, whatever it was and he’s excited. Rare wide grin stretched across his round face as he coaxes Benrey out sulking to come see what he’d brought from his own house. Revealing a small arena made of cheap plastic. _

_ Benrey in nearly religious awe as he set about detailing each and every small top taken from his bag. What it was called, what it did and why it was important. Explaining to Benrey in great excitement and joy how Beyblades worked and what the show was about. _

_ The show that he’d gotten approval for them to watch and binge together. _

_ Even pausing to let Benrey know what the differences was between anime and cartoons, along with the dub and much superior sub versions. Lamenting that they’d have to watch the American dub but promising to bring in the manga if it was deemed okay. _

_ Benrey doesn’t get a lot of it, just nodding along but he enjoys seeing how passionate Forzen is about the whole thing. Not often is he like this, so Benrey appreciates seeing this side of him even if it’s brief. Even if he knows that each approval comes with a price. Either more time on the training grounds or on the operating table. But it’s worth it, if they get to spend more time together. Pretending to be normal and acting like they were just regular kids. _

_ Benrey and Forzen then took up a Beyblade each, inserting the mechanism and letting them rip. Benrey focusing not on the two clashing spinning tops, but instead on Forzen’s delighted and flushed face. Smiling and leaning against him. Hoping he wouldn’t scare this one off too. That he would stay. _

_ That they could be like this forever. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was an incident regarding the last chapter where I found out in a very none direct way that my Coomer/Bubby backstory was incredibly upsetting to some people and put some folks off of this fic. I want to reiterate that I was never attempting to romanticize or excuse any abusive actions and that it is never my intent to do harm with my fiction regardless of intensity. I'm sorry if I hurt anyone by being careless, I take full responsibility of that, but I also need to defend myself where I think it is appropriate.
> 
> I should not have to disclose my own trauma and experiences of assault or abuse to have strangers give me their permission of what I'm allowed to write. To be blunt. Other people's experiences do not trump my own and vice versa. I try to give tw's but I miss stuff because I don't know what everyone finds triggering/squicky. I even try to give a heads up for sex repulsed folks because I respect that some people don't want to see that content and that's fucking valid and should be respected.  
> It also isn't fair for people to write me off with such bad faith interpretations of me and my work as if one piece of fiction speaks to my entire character and lived experiences or intentions. If people are going to think poorly of me and how I write, I'd rather it be for things I actually did.
> 
> My biggest issue with this entire thing is that no one talked to me like I was a fucking person worthy of that barest amount of respect.
> 
> I received no negative reviews or messages on here or on tumblr, telling me what I did wrong. I ignorantly thought things were fine until that slap in the face jolted me out of it. Which given everything right now sent me spiraling.  
> I'm sorry. I fucked up. I can accept that. I'm not perfect by any means. But how can I be better, how do I apologize and fix things if people won't even talk to me? It's incredibly dehumanizing. To be vagued about and effectively deemed such a harmful author because I made a mistake wasn't fair. You do not have to like me or this fic or my take on characters by any means. But at least leave me a review being critical and telling me what you think I did wrong so I can take it into consideration and address it.
> 
> I have anon reviews available. I publish every one I get. I only filter them because I don't want harmful/offensive language in the comments, which hasn't happened yet thankfully.
> 
> I said my piece to the person involved and they are entitled to their opinions and feelings. It's done. I'm fucking over it lmao.  
> I had my meltdown and let's move on. I don't want any more drama or discourse. They're fine, I'm fine. What's said is said and done is done.  
> I still respect them as an artist and individual, even if I can't stand to look at their content anymore due to my mental health.
> 
> Some people will just hate my work and that's okay. I just hope that in the future, if someone has issues or concerns about what I'm creating that they reach out to me so I can apologize and fix things immediately. Rather than find out later that people are talking about me behind my back and thinking the worst.  
> Be critical of me by all means, I welcome constructive criticism. Just please be civil.
> 
> I'm sorry for all of this. For being careless and not fixing things sooner.  
> I'll try to be better and more conscious of this stuff, but again. If I miss a tw or do something you think isn't okay, please don't hesitate to leave a negative/critical review. I don't want to hurt or disappoint folks. End of the day, I just want to tell a story. I'm more than happy to have a discussion and sort things out.  
> I'm not scary or mean. I'm just another loser that projects onto Benrey and Gordon and cries thinking of Darnold and Tommy's wedding lmao.  
> Anyway here's wonder wall and hopefully chapter 8 in the next few hours.


	8. You Should Know Better Than That By Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Be honest with me. Trust is important. If you're uncomfortable or upset, if you're mad at me then just tell me. So we can work it out together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!trigger/content warning!!
> 
> Unhealthy jealousy and some possessiveness, implied gender dysphoria, discussion of gender/sex and misgendering based on xenophobia. Canon typical animal death, as well as abuse, dehumanization, gore and such that you should expect by now.
> 
> I believe that is it, but please by all means do not hesitate to leave a review or message me letting me know if you think I need to add another warning.
> 
> I'm rushing this to publish, cause I'm so excited for this chapter so as always apologies for any super bad spelling or grammar mistakes. I caught one last chapter after I published when instead of lifting up his shirt Benrey somehow lifted up his stomach so oof, hopefully nothing as bad as that here. lmao. living that no beta life.
> 
> -
> 
> Suzie-bee drew this amazing piece for a scene from chapter 4! Lots of love, thank you!  
> https://suzie-bee.tumblr.com/post/627357192209776640/i-really-wanted-to-draw-one-of-my-favourite-scenes

"You don't know how to dance?"

Benrey shrugs dismissively.

Gordon pauses for a moment, contemplating it, before he rises and offers an outstretched hand to the security guard. He stares at it curiously before taking it. He’s thankful that they have their moments of privacy. Appreciating that the other scientists are in the basement toiling over Darnold’s samples and tinkering away. Still feeling that powerful urge to discover and create.

Gordon places a hand on the guard’s broad shoulder, instructing him to place a hand on his waist. Claws dancing on his hip dangerously. Tugging lightly at the waistband of his stolen pants.

"Spread your feet but not too far."

They look down together and afterwards he uses the toes of his left foot to outline the rough shape of a square. "You want to keep it simple for now. Go in the shape of a box. Feet meeting in each corner."

He steps back and Benrey follows him, continuing to the side, forward, side again and return. They do it a few times before Benrey's more confident in his strides.

"Now you lead. Try to keep a rhythm with the music.”

Benrey clicks his tongue. Eyes glued to the floor to watch their feet as he performs the necessary motions. The claws on his hip digging in as he gets more comfortable with the ordeal.

"This is easy."

"Yup. Pretty basic stuff."

Illuminated eyes meet his own, blank expression faltering before it warms. Lips parting in a gentle and surprisingly shy smile. They dance to the quiet sound of the cd player for a bit. Gordon's mouth suddenly feels uncomfortably dry. Breaking their gaze to stare instead at the alien's collar. Painfully easy to read.

"Somethin bugging you Gordo?"

"I haven't danced like this since Emily left me." He's brutally honest. It just comes out with a series of bittersweet memories lingering before his mind’s eye. The hand clasped around his own tightens painfully. His sharp gasp resulting in Benrey releasing him. Instead placing both hands on his hips. Continuing to sway and shift, now more awkwardly and overall uncertain.

Gordon follows suit, hand joining the other on his shoulders rather than tearing away altogether. They're closer like this. It feels weirdly intimate despite how irritated and bitter Benrey’s expression has become. As if the very shadows playing across his face have somehow darkened.

He's not an idiot.

"Benrey… You can't be jealous of everyone I interact or have a history with."

Benrey huffs and looks off like a scolded child, grumbling under his breath. "m not jealous."

"You're full of shit." Gordon sighs. Coming to a stop. Benrey follows suit but they keep their hands where they lay. "You owe Darnold an apology."

He's quiet. Thinking. Before, "You like him?"

"Not like that." Gordon shoves off of Benrey's chest. "We're just friends. Plus, I'm pretty sure he's got someone else in mind. So there's nothing to be jealous of. You're just being a possessive asshole who gets ready to throw a tantrum every time I hug a friend. Darnold risked his life trying to help us. He saved me from dying from an infection and gave me an arm that was vital in keeping me alive. He's a part of this team. You need to fuckin smarten up and cut that shit out. It's not cute. It's rude and outright pathetic."

His lecture is met with Benrey's usual now unchanging look of boredom. Though he can glimpse the frustration behind his eyes, learning to see through the alien's mask of false indifference.

"And the woman?"

"Her name is Emily dickhead," Gordon wanders off to grab a drink, Benrey following him as was to be expected. Standing aways in the kitchen as the man grabs himself one of the few remaining sodas. Taking a long gulp of sugary syrup and caffeine before fixing the guard with a glare, "We broke up years ago. That ship has sailed. Anything we had is gone. Besides. I'm here with you, not with her."

Or his son. He grimaces painfully.

But that tears Benrey's mask clean off. Eyes widening as a deep flush colours his startled features. As if something just fell into place in the hellscape that was his chaotic mind.

Gordon doesn't stop him from walking forward and pinning him against the counter. Standing too close for comfort, hands on either side of him on the marble top. Illuminated eyes boring into his own.

"Gordon," he breaths wistfully. Resting their foreheads together. Eyes fluttering shut. Admitting quietly, "I've never done any of this before… I'm doing it for you."

"Lucky me." He's only half joking. Snark is just a foundation of their relationship it seems as it makes Benrey huff with a chuckle. Taking no offence.

"I can't lose you again." He surprises Gordon when he shifts to rest his face against the physicist's shoulder. Arms enveloping him in an uncertain hug. Light. As if he was scared of crushing him. Which he could, but Gordon isn't that fragile that a proper hug will have him shattering into glass.

He sets his can down without spilling it. Patting and rubbing Benrey's back. "You won't lose me to our friends or my ex."

He gulps because it’s about time they confronted this part of things now before it gets a tad too far, "But we're not even together, Benrey. Not like that."

He raises his head to growl into his ear, "Why not?"

Gordon pushes lightly at his chest and thankfully Benrey lets him go. Giving him a bit of space. But thin lips are curled in a snarl as his eyes appear more vulnerable and anxious than the alien has any right in being.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. Voice low, "Berney-"

"Would you prefer if I was a woman?" That catches him completely and totally off guard. Jaw falling open. Benrey takes his hands abruptly, tight enough that he can’t pull away. Guides them so his palms rest on his chest, "I can do that. Tits and everything. Will take some getting used to but if that's what you want-”

**_"No."_ ** He stutters and balks. Needing to regain his composure. Brows furrowed as he says forcefully, "Benrey you don't have to change for me, or for anyone.  **Not like that.** "

"I'm not a man. Genders fuckin stupid anyway."

"But do you feel more comfortable in this body?"

His silence and glare is answer enough. His grip goes lax so Gordon moves his hands to his hips, mimicking what Benrey had done when they'd been dancing. "It's shit like that..." he pauses. Shifting his feet uncomfortably. Is this what he wants, to be something with Benrey? Or is he just lonely? He’s attracted to him sure but something serious... Seemed like it was doomed to fail. Maybe it was his fault for letting him stay in his bed and giving into his kisses and shared starvation for affection. "We can't just jump into it. We need to take our time. See how it goes and if this is right for us."

"... Benrey you can be incredibly cruel. And I have issues with my temper. We tried to kill each other, that's not just something you forget. You have memories that I've lost. If… If we're going to try this. We need to be equals and set some fucking ground rules."

Benrey nods to show he's listening though he still looks rather annoyed, "Like what?"

"You aren't allowed to take out your jealousy on the people I care about. If you're jealous keep it to yourself or talk to me about it when we're alone." Benrey nods again so Gordon continues, "Don't take it the wrong way when I need my space. It can feel suffocating when you're always touching or crowding me. Holding my hand is fine but sometimes I'd like to keep to myself. Ask before you kiss me or anything like that… And it should be fucking obvious but we shouldn't try to hurt or kill each other. Even for a joke.”

"Okay…"

"Be honest with me. Trust is important. If you're uncomfortable or upset, if you're mad at me then just tell me. So we can work it out together."

"I really want to stick my tongue in your mouth right now," he gives a lopsided and sleazy grin. Showing off his rows of sharp teeth. Gordon just rolls his eyes.

"We can kiss but don't shove it down my throat. Remember. I'll choke and throw up into your mouth."

"Sure thing," he doesn't look like he's listening but risking it Gordon leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips.

The first is chaste before Benrey descends on him. Pulling him close and pushing a long slimy tongue past his lips. It's sloppy and makes Gordon flush with embarrassment. Saliva dripping from his chin as they makeout like desperate inexperienced teenagers. Gordon breaking it to breathe while Benrey licks a strip from the corner of his mouth to beneath his eye, making the man tremble.

A low growl rumbling up the alien's throat, "Gordon…?"

"Hm?"

"That was kinda fuckin gay."

He bursts into laughter shoving Benrey off lightly whose likewise grinning. He takes a sip of his drink and after wiping his face clean chuckles once more before adding, "No homo?"

"No homo bro." He teases back. Before hesitating. Adding quickly, “Can I have rules?”

_ “Of fucking course _ . I want you to feel comfortable. It’s about both of us being happy.”

Something about that has Benrey blushing again. The new marks across his skin seem to light up but it’s subtle enough that Gordon writes it off as a trick of the mind. “Can you... Not call me a monster? Shit fuckin hurts.”

His heart drops a tad and he clears his throat sharply, “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

**_“Don’t.”_ ** He snaps lightly dragging Gordon by his wrist back to where they’d been dancing. “Show, again. Harder.”

He blinks and stumbles but nods. Getting Benrey back into position as he continues to try and show him how to dance. Leaving the earlier intensity behind them with the rest of the shit they’d overcome.

At dinner that night Benrey apologizes to Darnold for being in his words ‘a total d bag noob who needed to be kicked from the game for being an asshole’ and after accepting his apology with Darnold’s own for originally being afraid of him, he asks if Benrey would like to help him come up with new names for the substances he’d made with the alien samples. Benrey seems so shocked by the offer that he stutters a bit before excitedly agreeing.

Boasting to Gordon later that his names were so good and awesome that they’d needed to take into serious consideration just which ones to use.

Darnold was even invited to the private sessions between him and Bubby, which even Gordon wasn’t invited to. Leaving him and Coomer to tend the garden and laugh amongst themselves as the Peeper Puppy idly watched from it’s blanket.

They get so comfortable in their manufactured routine that it’s easy to stop tuning into the radio for updates. They know the portals and ‘invasion’ is on going, but it seems like the major cities are fortified enough to survive and that they’re the last thing on anyone’s mind now.

Gordon isn’t at peace, he worries about Emily and Joshua constantly. Frets about Tommy and the other scientists. Hopes to god that someday they’ll all be able to see each other again. But he is happy, at least. He’s with his friends and him and Benrey are slowly but surely, beginning to understand and accept each other.

So of course, it has to end.

As all good things do.

* * *

_ He hasn’t dreamed of Tommy in ages. Thinks nothing of it as his dream begins as many do. Or rather, it’s a nightmare. As he finds himself in his lab coat and tie, in Anomalous Materials. Rarely does any dream he has involving Black Mesa keep from being peaceful or pleasant for very long. _

_ But he doesn’t realize he’s dreaming yet. Carrying on as he would most days in one of the labs. Quickly writing away in his notes as others around his station continue on in their work. He adds to the complicated physics equation sprawled across a whiteboard. Mulling over the numbers in his head, erasing one section to correct it. Nevermind that to one’s rational waking mind they would know that it’s all gibberish regardless. _

_ But things are often strange and distorted in dreams. So he’s not at all concerned when the glass housing the lab from the hallway shatters and in rolls a disheveled looking man. Thinning hair in disarray, labcoat torn at the shoulder and looking quite troubled with dark bags under his eyes and blood crusting the corner of his frowning mouth. He pushes off from the ground, looking back and forth frantically at the scientists before his eyes land on Gordon. _

_ Oh. It’s Tommy. _

_ Who else would it be. _

_ He waves with the hand that holds the dry erase marker and turns back to the whiteboard. Finding his equation gone and a smear of blood in its place. Blinking in confusion before he looks back to the older man and sees the carnage in the hallway behind him. _

_ It is a nightmare. _

_ Tommy rushes him, catching him by the shoulders and blocking his vision. Words tumbling out of his mouth frantically. _

_ “Gordon. You have to listen to me. I don’t have much time left. You’re dreaming but it’s me. I promise. You have to trust me. Please. Please tell me you trust me.” _

_ “I trust you?” He blinks. Can hear screams from down the hall. _

_ “You have to get away from Benrey-” _

_ “No no. It’s okay.” He explains gently, “We’re okay. He’s alright. I promise.” _

_ “No! It’s Benrey, Gordon. It’s always been Benrey. It’s a trap-” _

_ “Oh, the Resonance Cascade? I know. He told us.” _

_ Tommy shakes his head in frustration,  _ **_“No! No listen to me! You aren’t listening!”_ **

_ He falls silent and Tommy begins again. _

_ Desperate. Pleading, “They’re after Benrey. They’ve always been after Benrey. You and the others were bait! They wanted him to find you and come! They were counting on it!  _ **_You have to get away from him, get away from Benrey before it’s too late!_ ** _ They’re using you Gordon! It was a set up! They needed you to get to him! Don’t you see?!” _

_ “What…?” _

_ Tommy deflates a bit, shoulders slumping and head bowed. Gordon can’t recognize the place behind him, but it’s no longer Black Mesa. “They’re coming Gordon… It’s too late. There’s nothing we could have done. There’s nothing we can do.” _

_ When he meets Gordon’s eyes his own are glowing. Scalia pitch black as blood pours from his lips in a pitiful stream of scarlet. “I tried. I really did Mr. Freeman… Please. Don’t hate me.” _

_ “Tommy… What are you talking about?” _

_ Tommy wordlessly looks at him before pushing him back and as he falls a pale hand finds itself on the other’s shoulder. Catching sight of Mr. Coolatta at Tommy’s side before he’s ripped out of his dream. _

* * *

Gordon falls out of bed. Benrey’s head peeking over the side. Brows raised, “You okay?”

He stares at him before getting up, rushing into the living room and shouting for everyone else to get their asses out of bed despite the early hour. They hadn’t been asleep for long but he feels like a bat outta hell. Hands trembling and blood drained from his face. It must show because any complaints come to halt upon seeing his grim expression.

He relays his dream to the others and though Bubby questions if he really was contacted by Tommy or not, it’s not a risk anyone is willing to take. They get dressed and begin moving things into position. Planning out more traps and effective escape routes depending on where they come.

Coomer rushes back into the house after checking on the truck. Informing everyone that the tires are slashed. Benrey states that he hadn’t felt anything odd recently, making Gordon panic as he calls back how much time has passed since they checked on the truck or even went out the front. A few days at least.

That must have been Benrey’s off feeling.

Fuck. They’d gotten sloppy.

Too comfortable.

Whoever’s keeping watch must notice their panic, despite them having the forethought to keep the lights out, because for the first time since their arrival the phone rings. It shouldn’t have service surely. Yet clear as day it rings throughout the home, silencing the group immediately. Benrey is closest and he goes for it as if on cue.

They all shout at him to stop in varying levels of distress. Coomer's outstretched arm reached for his shirt collar to pull him back but failed to do so in time. As Benrey presses the talk button and holds the receiver to his ear. Answering with a bewildering,  _ "Moshi moshi?" _

They all freeze in place with baited breath as a voice on the other side can be heard, muffled. Benrey's face darkens as he blinks slowly and looks at Gordon. Taking long strides to where he's standing over the dining table before holding out the phone. "It's for you."

"Hello?" He takes it. Hesitant to bring the receiver to his ear. The plastic cracking in his grip when the familiar voice reaches him.

“Aye Freeman, been a hot minute. How’s it going? See ya took up gardening, that’s cool.” Forzen sounds too casual for the circumstances. Giving Benrey a run for his money when it came to acting so laid back. “Listen. I’m gonna need you and Benrey to surrender ‘fore things get ugly. You do that, **we’ll be nice and let your friends go.”**

_ “I don’t believe you.” _

“And I don’t care. See I was only told to bring you and Benrey back alive. Everyone else is collateral damage and write offs. You come quietly, I’ll look the other way. Everybody wins and we avoid any unnecessary damage. We wouldn’t want to get carried away now would we?”

Bubby speaks frantically from where he’s stationed at the monitor they have connected to the outdoor cameras, "Gordon they're coming!"

Everyone else took up their arms.

"What about Coomer? They need him for cloning.”

"Don’t know. Don’t care. I have my orders. Benrey and you are my top priority." they're both silent for a moment before he offers, "Do we have a deal or not Freeman?"

Gordon spares a glance at the others. Trusting his gut, **"No."**

"Well alrighty then.”

He hangs up leaving Gordon with the dead tone for a moment sharing a glance with the others before he looks to Benrey who is standing before the glass door. Looking out into the tree line, the receiver drops from his hand as the door shatters and Benrey is thrown back by the shot.

Hitting the ground with a solid crash, limbs sprawled and blood still gushing from the hole now centre of his forehead. Immortality be damned, Gordon feels as if a hand is gripped around his heart. Squeezing so tight it threatens to burst. Breathing coming out rapidly as tears burn his eyes. The sniper reloads, Coomer grabs Gordon and tears him down to the ground just as Darnold topples over the table for preemptive cover. The trio cowering behind it as shots hit their flimsy barricade. Gordon screams at Benrey to get up but his eyes are staring unblinking towards the ceiling. Looking for all intents and purposes as dead as anyone who’d caught a bullet in the head.

There’s crashing and blasts from off in the distance, Bubby reporting from his own hiding spot still within view of the monitor that their traps were slowing down their approach. Coomer takes the chance, using his cybernetic arms to grab Benrey’s wrist and drag him out of the open. Leaving behind a nasty snail trail.

Gordon is on him once secured. Shaking him and trying to wake him, but he’s dead weight. Completely limp in his arms. Gordon presses a kiss to his lips, an act of sheer desperation, but he’s cold and stiff. Not even some Disney level shit able to bring him back.

He’d seen Benrey shrug off bullets before. Some of them his own. Why? Why now!? He was no stranger to dying but this was some major fucking bullshit. And he screams as much into the deadman’s face. Demanding he come back. Not acknowledging that his vision is blurred with tears. As he chastises Benrey for making him think he’d actually died. For being so mean as to do that to him, to leave when they needed him most. Speaking out of fear and grief. Pleading with Benrey to wake up. That they can’t leave him behind, they won’t.

Benrey doesn’t so much as blink or glance at him.

Coomer gets Gordon out of his stupor, stating that they need to start pulling back! He screams in frustration and taking his gun, damn how much ammo he has left, begins blind firing into their backyard. When his rifle clicks empty, he pops the magazine and ducks back down to reload. Coming face to skull with a skeleton, whose empty eye sockets are locked with his gaze.

Tears finally spill over and he whispers a joyous, “Benrey!” Only for the others to look frantically in his sight’s direction, apparently not spotting the apparition.

Boney hands move to the body’s thigh holster, taking his gun and standing. Returning to Benrey’s previous spot. It aims and fires in quick succession up into the trees, giving Gordon a thumbs up before stepping through the shattered glass frame and unhooking the Peeper Puppy from it’s impromptu leash. Following after the beast as it takes off into the woods with a rumble and electrified crack of its body.

He wipes his face and says confidently that the snipers are taken care of. Standing despite everyone demanding he stay down and sure enough, he’s not shot. Those approaching likely still too far to get a clear shot. But their time is limited. He helps Darnold pour a potion or two before the backend of the house to try and slow the soldiers down.

Rigging the oven and microwave to blow. Fireplace set aflame and the chimney closed for extra measure. As they filter into Gordon and Benrey’s bedroom, everyone is looking ready for the fight of their lives. Coomer readies his throwing arm with one of Darnold’s acidic potions while Bubby watches their exit, the window above the dresser. Gordon having a good shot for when Coomer throws and backs out of the way, to shoot whoever tries coming through the door next.

Then it’s a waiting game. Listening closely through the thin walls, not daring to move or so much as breath, as they bide their time. A few men slip on the slime trap Darnold had set, Bubby counting quietly under his breath for when they should be about in the kitchen before setting off a spark in the other room, a blast sounding off and shaking the floor beneath their feet. Flames and heat briefly licking under the door. The next wave follow, kicking open doors and checking rooms. They hit Darnold’s room next door, stomp above.

There’s a shadow now before the door. Coomer tenses.

The door is kicked open, a glass jar bursting into green acid as it hits the soldier who breaches. The man fell to his knees, giving Gordon a clear shot to the one flanking behind him. He unleashes a wave of bullets, Darnold throwing another container that spills and splashes.Oil promptly ignited by Bubby. They scramble for the window, Bubby falling out first. Coomer then helps the others out before following quickly after. Gordon helps him up to find that Darnold and Bubby are frozen in place.

There’s a squad waiting for them, guns drawn and aimed.

A single bullet somehow manages to go through each man’s helmet, despite their differences in position and height. The row of them following like dominos one after the other. It defies physics. As each helmet and skull should have slowed the momentum but he doesn’t care about that. To their left standing in the front door frame is Benrey, their Benrey. Hole still in his face. His jacket and hair is on fire, extinguishing after a moment. Burnt skin marring half his face bubbling and bursting, thick cobalt vapour pouring from the wounds. If Gordon looks he thinks he spots eyes and teeth within the twisting smoke.

Benrey cracks his neck and with a sharp raise of his hand, the six men before them rise like puppets on string. Heads lolling and limbs limp where they’re suspended. With his other hand the clothing and very muscle from their bones is torn free is an abrupt and violent tear. Still dyed red and marked with bits of stubborn clinging gore. Darnold grabs Gordon’s arm and vomits. Gordon can’t blame him, his own stomach pulls painfully at the sight.

The skeletons, that should not be able to remain together without muscle or joints, reclaim their weapons and straighten. A gesture from Benrey having them take position before the scientists before spreading out from them and rounding both sides of the house.

Benrey strolls towards their frightened group, digging into the hole in his forehead to tear out the bullet. Scowling at it. It’s pulsing and emitting some sort of faint yellow light.

Benrey’s apparently no longer fucking around.

And that both terrifies and delights Gordon.

“What do we do?” Bubby’s the first to ask and usually they wouldn’t be asking Benrey. He’s the type to ask an attack helicopter to ‘please stop’. Seems to decide on a whim if he’s going to take part in a battle or not, probably just for his own amusement. But things weren’t so simple. He was really the only chance they had.

“You need to run,” He’s serious, which is still so strange to him. More uncomfortable than originally hearing Benrey say his name. Locking eyes with Gordon once again, he raises his pistol and fires without breaking eye contact. Hitting the soldier that had been attempting to sneak up on them from the side. “They want me right? Then I’ll give’em what they want. You guys can go that way,” He points to where they’d originally came up from the road. “It’s thinner ranks up there, you can break through. Go off. I’ll keep them busy. Give them something to cry about.”

Gordon falters. Looking to their friends. "I love you guys." He whispers. Everyone looks to Gordon with a mix of desperation and defiance. Except for Benrey, whose eyes remain on his face.

"Gentlemen. If this is the end. It's been a pleasure working with you." Coomer adds.

"If I had to die next to anyone… I'd guess I wouldn’t want to die with anyone else." Bubby follows, leaving Darnold.

"We might not have flown kites. But you did become my best buddies. I only wish we had gotten more time."

It's then that a soldier rounds the corner. Coomer grabbing the muzzle of his rifle, directing it upwards as he shot. Darnold pulled down his mask before spraying wasp repellent directly in his face. Letting it snap back as he screamed and let go of the gun to frantically try and get the mask off. Coomer turning his gun around on him, only to strike him once with the butt. Silencing him instantly. 

The house is quickly being engulfed with flames, smoke billowing upwards into the still dark sky. They start taking potshots into the woods surrounding them. More bottles were thrown and fires started until the front of the house and various scatterings of trees were lit up. Giving them more sight in the rampant blaze. Darnold and Coomer shoot down a squad that tried sneaking up on them, but a blast manages to hit Coomer in the shoulder. Making Bubby scream out ‘Harold!’ as the mechanical limb goes limp and hangs twitching and malfunctioning at his side. Darnold covers for him as they retreat, quickly losing ground. Huddled together, packed like rats, taking cover behind the truck.

Gordon frets. Looking between his allies.

They’ve held their position but Darnold's quickly running out. They have limited ammo and the military just keeps feeding them men.

They've been waiting for them to run out. They need to apprehend Gordon alive after all. They can’t risk just bombing the truck and getting him killed in the crossfire.

_ Fucking bastards. _

"Bubby!" He grabs his arm after he ignites yet another soldier. Darnold shooting him down after. There's blood dripping from the tube man's ears and nostrils, eyes shockingly bloodshot. He must not be used to stressing his abilities like this. Gordon worries about his implants. "Take Coomer and Darnold. Run in the opposite direction. Don't take the roads. Stay hidden if you need to."

“We're not leaving you behind!"

"They only want me and Benrey! If they capture all of us then we're fucking dead. But you guys, you can pull something off I know you can!  **You run and you don't look back."**

"Gordon…" his fierce expression falls and for once he just looks old and tired. Showing his age. Gordon grabs his head and puts their foreheads together. Not overthinking it for once, just trusting his gut and hoping it’s all conveyed.

"I love you man. If we don't make it. If you can't reach us. Find Joshua. Make sure he's okay. Tell him I'm sorry for bein such a shit dad.”

Bubby's eyes harden. Lips curled in a sneer, "You'll tell him yourself."

The rough shove makes Gordon smile, watching painfully as he heads over to where Coomer and Darnold are holding the line at the truck bed. Shouting that they need to split up and cover more ground. Get away from the burning house and away from the truck in case it goes off next. The two scientists follow him back towards the road. The grief stricken glance Darnold throws Gordon's way, letting him know that they don't buy it for a moment. He hears more shots go off in the distance not long after but has to trust that they'll be okay.

Benrey pops out his final clip and drops his pistol. Rather than roll his sleeves up, he rips them off entirely. The black of his claws slowly creeping down his hands and forearms. In stark contrast his bioilluminant markings. Jaw cracking audibly as the skin at the corner of his lips tears open. 

Gordon reloads. He’s down to his last mag too, "What now?"

Benrey rumbles, _ “Give’em hell?” _

Fine with him.

He follows Benrey to the backyard, trampling over their once beautiful and promising garden, falling behind as the alien grabs an unsuspecting soldier and throws him into the burning and collapsing building. Claws slashing through the armour and plating of those who follow. Bullets doing little more than pissing him off as he takes the full brunt of the assault’s attention. Now in the small clearing before the burning woods, illuminated by the blaze that surrounds them. Gordon tries to suppress his fear, when Benrey grabs a disarmed man by the arms and kicking his torso, rips both arms free. Tossing one at a soldier and then beating another with the remaining, sending the man flying back into the trunk of a tree where he collapses and stills.

Benrey still has the audacity to cheer a ‘homerun!’

He leaves cover to offer support. Shooting those he can and keeping back. Painfully aware of how no one is firing at him.

Because they need him alive.

He looks at the house, now an inferno. Not unlike the forest fire that begins to spread. Feeling guilt and remorse pull at his heart. All those memories, an innocent family's legacy destroyed because of them.

He was so sure that Benrey had things covered, that he's foolish enough to let his guard down. Going tense and cursing as a thick arm snags his throat. Benrey whips round. A stolen knife launched. Embedding itself in the goggles worn by Gordon's attacker. He goes still, falling dead as the physicist scrambles out of his loosened grasp. Gordon stumbling and rushing to Benrey's side. Not focusing on his various eyes or the blood splattered across his face like war paint.

Back to back, metaphorically given Benrey’s brief growth in size. They're quickly surrounded. Benrey breathing heavy. Gordon follows suit, hands trembling on the rifle.

"Hey Ben. **_Been a while._ ** Looking good. Do somethin with your hair?” Forzen clears the black smoke wafting from the trees. Toothpick held firmly between his teeth. Spitting it out to leer, "Wanna be a pal and just give up?”

He's got a hand behind his back. 

Benrey snarls at him like a rabid dog.

"Stand down." He commands. "You've killed enough people today don't cha think? Lotta work for someone like you. Wouldn’t you rather call it a day and take a break?”

Benrey leaves Gordon to run at him. Arm pulled back, preparing to swipe. Forzen reveals the device behind his back. Shooting Benrey with a bright flare of colour that makes him fall to a knee. Form warping before he's shot again. In the face this time. Benrey screams something awful as the sound pierces their skulls like a persistent drill. Everyone save Forzen clutching their head or doubling over in pain from the destructive sound.

His form flickers. Arms ripping through the flesh and clothing of his back and front, only to melt into pools of bloodied viscera at his feet. Head splitting open like the petals of a flower to reveal rows upon rows of teeth and snapping tendrils. Gordon has to look away. His mind on fire. Feeling blood gush from his nose when Benrey speaks in what he could only describe as tongues.

Forzen unloads the clip into him. Two other soldiers possessing similar weapons. All shooting Benrey in union as his body ripples, coils and cowers. Flesh boiling and dripping from his own grotesque skeleton, before melding and forming to more alien shapes. As if he’s struggling to remain tangible and whole. His boots melted way to talons, then hooves. Struggling to find purchase upon the ground.

Shrieking. 

He can feel the guard’s pain as if it’s his own.

Devastating in its intensity.

Gordon curses, turns with his eyes squeezed shut and blind fires. Spraying and praying until his gun clicks empty. Well and truly out of ammo.

When he opens his eyes the soldiers backing Forzen are dead but the Canadian still somehow stands tall. Even with various holes covering his body. Missing an eye. Benrey moves, a withering mess of dark flesh. Recovering. But Forzen rushes Gordon instead. Seizing the opportunity. Fire light dancing across his bloodied and furious features as he wrenches Gordon by the throat as if he weighs nothing. Getting him into a hold despite his attempts to struggle out of his powerful grasp.

He's clutched to the man's hard chest. His equipment and armor digging in uncomfortably into his back. Choking against the arm crushing his windpipe as the blade of a knife is dug into his chest. Nicking the flesh and making him squirm. Dropping the gun to scratch and claw at Forzen's arm desperately. Blunt nails painfully scraping and digging into his heated skin.

Benrey quite literally pulls himself together, somewhat human but naked and struggling to maintain his form. Half of his shocked face still thrashing tentacles, a mouth where his right eye should be and another spanning across his bare stomach. He stands. One of his legs digitigrade before his knee snaps back painfully into place. Looking at the pair. Body heaving. Black pouring from his gaping mouths in place of crimson.

"Stand down or he dies."

Rage ripples across his features. Eyes opening in the air surrounding him as the ground beneath Gordon's feet rumbles and cracks. Speaking in that language that has Gordon's ears ringing before switching to English, **_"Let him go."_ **

" **STAND DOWN."**

He takes a step forward. Talons replacing toes, spikes sharply protruding from his shoulders. Forzen digs the knife deeper. Breaching the skin. Gordon crying out and struggling newfold to breath. Trying to escape. Pain spreading from his chest onwards, followed by the warmth of blood pooling on his shirt.

Benrey falters. Clearly conflicted.

Gordon tries to scream at him not to give in.  _ To kill them all. _ But wheezes, voice caught behind Forzen’s grasp. Blinking away dots that dance across his vision. Relaxing a tad in Forzen's hold in a desperate attempt to get any air into his screaming lungs.

"Stand down." He repeats just as forcefully. Benrey screams. Roaring into the sky. Stabbing Gordon to his core with the anguish and fury of it all.

Before he falls to his knees and his head falls forward in defeat.

**_No. No no no no._ **

Gordon reaches for him but his hand barely lifts. Watching as his vision fades at the edges as Benrey is commanded to offer his wrists. Soldiers fitting him with almost obscenely large cuffs that click into place. A mechanism injecting him with something that has him hissing in pain. Forzen walks back. Dragging Gordon who's still locked under his arm along with him.

Gordon can't make out what he's saying. It's in French but when Benrey looks up the fury and betrayal in his pale face is overwhelming. Gordon tries to mouth 'run' but as soon as bright eyes flicker in his direction Forzen is burying his knife into the top of Benrey's head.

Gordon's scream is trapped. A weakened wheeze. The blade snapped off and handle tossed to the side.

Forzen loosens his grip, as not to choke Gordon truly into unconsciousness or even death. Meaning he's able to blearly watch as Benrey is shot repeatedly in the back and once toppled over swarmed. Large stakes hammered into his joints and limbs with practiced tactical efficiency. No peep leaving him as he's face down in the bloodied grass.

Gordon's shifted, manhandled, Frozen making easy work of cuffing him. Meeting his gaze with white clouded eyes before the physicist spits in his face. Backhand sending him to the ground. He bites the fingers that reach for his hair recieving a punch for that and a boot stomping on his stomach. Making him retch and curl inward on his side. Gasping in breaths as he's snatched by thick strands and dragged, screaming and thrashing into the still burning woods. Scalp on fire, strands surely torn free, when Forzen lets him go.

Shouting out a string of orders that don't reach his ears. He feels the rumble of the Peeper Puppy, opens his eyes just as Forzen shoots it. Squeezing them back shut, even as tears spill over and bile rises in his throat.

A bag is shoved over his head and he's hauled by his arms by two goons. Feet dragging and digging into the ground in petty resistance.

He's forced into a helicopter. Sandwiched between two large bodies. An audible click telling him there's a shotgun barrel pointed at his head.

He doubles over and damning his pride, openly weeps. Loud sobbing met with silence and the deafening roar of the helicopter.

* * *

He doesn't know how much time passes. But they land and he's guided or dragged for quite a bit before the bag is snatched off.

He's blinded by the fluorescent lights, blinking and squinting as his cuffs are removed. Shoved into what he realizes with horror is an open shower.

He opens his mouth and a gun is raised at him by a masked soldier. Faltering he offers weakly, "You need me alive."

They lower their aim with a jeering, "Try it."

Right. Alive doesn't mean intact.

He undresses quickly and stiffly. Standing in the barren tiles. Unable to stop from violently flinching when he's quite literally hosed down with freezing water. Harsh water pressure beating against his bruised skin.

Soaking wet and shivering, attempting to have some modesty by covering himself, Gordon is led to a large brightly lit room.

Gordon knows this song and dance by now. Pushed into a more accommodating cell than his last, that instead of steel walls is thick tempered glass. Open concept. Transparent cage meaning he can be observed from all angles. The set piece to the large room. A jumpsuit has been left on the furnished bed and a tablet left charging on a modest desk.

He doesn't have to wait for long after awkwardly getting dressed. Soldiers keeping station at the door before they were relieved of their post by equally as armoured guards dawned in stark black to the white setting.

Then in walks a dreadfully familiar face.

Don is in the same ironed black suit, his hair is shock grey with a stripe of black at his temples. Hands behind his back as he smiles pleasantly, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Freeman."

"Clone or tube?" He snaps harshly.

The man chuckles and turning his head, pushes back the lobe of his right ear to expose a small marking tattooed so easily out of sight on the back of his ear. Clone. Gordon scoffs as Don soothes out his lapels and hair. "I must say I hope the actions of 372B will not affect our business. Freewill and all that. I ask that you view me as an individual. As you do Harold Coomer."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Charming. But I must thank you, on behalf of everyone working this sensitive case. We couldn't have done it without your full cooperation."

At his silence the vulture chuckles.

"You haven't figured it out yet?"

He glares and the man's smile tightens just a smidge. "You've been had. Hoodwinked. Played like a fiddle before we cut your strings."

"Is there a pitstop between here and the fucking point?"

"The point is Dr. Freeman, that your pride has been your own undoing. Did you really think we'd put three of the most high profile criminals in a simple detention centre, after you did away with the military sent to Black Mesa? In an isolated setting with such weak security? Security who wore a uniform similar to Benrey so that he might easily assimilate and hide among their ranks. That if we really wanted answers, we wouldn't have simply beaten and torn them from you? That we'd assign not only the mixologist but an easy to despise figure head in your midst? We could have set off the explosives implanted in Dr. Coomer and what do you call it, Bubby? Immediately after you escaped. Could have sent all manner of forces and equipment to apprehend you lot. Especially when you stopped at a cheap motel on the side of the road. To put it in a way you might understand Freeman, is that you were pinned down from day one. Thanks in no small part to Dr. Coolatta's assistance."

_ "What?" _ Tommy?

"To be blunt. You were bait. But it wasn't just enough to get Benrey out of hiding. No. We needed leverage. A bargaining chip in exchange for the subject’s compliance." Don snaps his fingers and on the glass separating them projects a display. Making Gordon's body flash cold. When from his perspective, reveals Benrey looks at him fondly. A scene from their night together. Where kisses were traded and soft sentiments shared in the privacy of the night.

It then changes to what he's looking at directly. Which is Don behind the transparent scene arching a brow.

Gordon wrenches the glasses from his face. Frames cracking in his grip as furiously he throws it at Don, where upon they bounce off harmlessly to clutter to the floor. Don's eyes are alight with amusement and twisted glee. Watching wordlessly as Gordon begins to hyperventilate. Clutching at his chest as the beginnings of a panic attack overwhelmed him.

"I believe you've finally grasped the full picture." He hums. "Everyone has a weakness, Freeman. For you we thought it would have been your family but instead it was those ridiculous fools. For Benrey, it was just you. Encouraged of course with some necessary development. So thank you. For giving us this opportunity and performing  **_spectacularly_ ** . At first we weren’t sure if you would indulge Benrey’s infatuation, instead you did better than we could have ever asked for. A risk well taken.”

He's speechless.

Don musing lightly, "It behaves accordingly and you'll be fine, provided and cared for. It tries anything, and we'll have to retaliate. You understand. It'll be simple at first. Fingers from your left hand, teeth and feet. So on. Things you can live without. Hopefully it stops there."

"Benrey's going to kill every last one of you."

"No. It won't. Because it's in love with you and knows we won't hesitate to have you killed. And what's worse than torture and death, but the suffering of one's beloved? It's poetic in a way. If a bit pathetic.”

Gordon takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Struggling to know what to say.

"What if I just kill myself?"

"You can try. But would you rather be like this, with a room and entertainment or be strapped down and kept in a vegetative state of delirium until we need you lucid? Do not misunderstand. Unlike before we will not give you ample opportunity to conspire and escape. You are being monitored at all hours and any moment we believe you're acting inappropriately, will be met with harsh resistance.”

“To speak within your own terms,  **you do not want to fuck with me** . My brother was a prop, I am a businessman. Play nice, do what you’re told and you’ll be rewarded. Piss me off, try to get out and I’ll make you wish you’d died in that house fire.”

Don taps the glass separating them, “I was made for this case. It has been my honour to play against you. But you’ve lost, since the start. Accept defeat and get comfortable. I promise, to take care of you. Both of you. But you need to work with me, rather than against me. Play your cards right, in ten or so years I might let you go outside for walks. Now be a good boy and get some rest. We have a long eternity ahead of us and we're just getting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don vc: YOU'VE BEEN HOODWINKED BABY~
> 
> Yes. This was planned early on back at chapter 3/4 when I went ahead and mapped out the plot. Hopefully reading back a lot of my attempts at foreshadowing are made clearer. I tried to sprinkle in various tells like Gordon's glasses being mentioned, Don's changing hair colour/slight tweaks in personality in his appearances, ect.
> 
> I did Forzen real dirty in this fic, but that's because Benrey needed a foil and I wanted to explore the suggested falling out from Scorpy's 'we were friends' line. But if I write a much more mellow/neutral version of Forzen in another fic/au, it's gonna be a real dissonance for my readers given this harsher much more irredeemable portrayal. For the record I don't just have one set of interpretations for characters as I feel hlvrai especially lends itself to so much freedom and possibilities depending on how you look at things. This is just the dark edgy emo fic of the fandom I guess lmao. I'm fine being that person :v
> 
> Also ye it's real projection hours on Benrey.
> 
> I should say that I played and finished Black Mesa, the remake of Half Life 1. I already had an idea of things from reading the wiki pages but it definitely helped me better understand the facility, the scientists, GMan and especially Xen. Like I already knew Black Mesa wasn't innocent but seeing a dead vortigaunt on an operating table and finding a brute you can kill with three buttons for seemingly no reason since he's trapped, really puts it into perspective. Also the military is just outright fucking evil in the game. The Xen level is actually fucking gorgeous and I highly suggest folks who are into Half Life or hlvrai look into it. That version is definitely canon for this fic and was highly influential to the last chapter. That is where Benrey comes from and that is the environment he defaults too, thus his glowing eyes and markings. I've started HL2 as well, but I'm taking my time with it.
> 
> It's not necessary to know HL lore to know what's happening though. I'm already taking several liberties and Xen has an alternate history thanks to Benrey's involvement, which he talked about briefly in the last chapter.
> 
> I think that's it? Hopefully it was worth the wait! My classes begin this week and university takes priority so updates will slow down, but I'll be continuing this fic when I can.  
> As always, thank you so much for reading and for bringing me so much inspiration and happiness this past month. I hope you have a decent fall, remember to be to kind to not only others but to yourself as well. <3


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